What Cannot Be Forgotten
by Amberlia
Summary: "You're not my father," Adele said, shaking her head softly. "And you'll never be." Sebastian's mouth turned up in a cruel smile. "One day, you will learn to accept me. One day, the world will burn and I will be all you have left." "When pigs fly." Clary and Sebastian had a daughter, Adele. Raised by Jace Wayland, she believed her parents were dead. Turns out she was wrong...HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Clary and Sebastian (Jonathan) Morgenstern have a child together-a daughter named Adele. Clary dies shortly after giving birth to her daughter and Sebastian is supposedly killed by Shadowhunters when Adele is a few months old. Taken in by Jace, Isabelle, Alec, Magnus and Simon, Adele grows up in a relatively normal Shadowhunter household. What happens when Sebastien, who isn't really dead, comes after his daughter? And with the discovery of powers she didn't know she was capable of having, powers strong enough to destroy heaven and raise hell, her biological father's new plan to storm the world with his Endarkened Army, as well as resurrect her dead mother, Adele falls right into the middle of the grand scheme of things. Will she turn against her Shadowhunter family, the one that raised her since birth, and join her father? And will she rule by his side as the new queen of hell? The First Part of "What Cannot Be Forgotten" by Amberlily34567.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. This right belongs to Cassandra Clare. However, the story line which I have developed should not be plagiarized or duplicated without my permission. The characters all belong to Cassandra Clare. However, what they do in this story is in my control and I do not appreciate plagiarism. Also, I do not support all the ideas in this story. There may be dark parts later on in the story with sensitive, triggering subjects and I will give warnings in the chapter before and at the beginning of that chapter. If the story disturbs or triggers you in anyway, I suggest you stop reading farther. As of now, this story is rated M for triggering subjects later on and language. Anything that happens in this story is purely fictional and should not be attempted in real life. I am not responsible for injury or anything that happens should someone try anything from my story.**

 **A/N: Welcome to "What Cannot Be Forgotten", a story about Sebastien and Clary's daughter! Yeah, I know incest is bad and I don't recommend it because of all sorts of risky things. However, this story does discuss the topic so if your really young or don't like that kind of stuff, please don't read or skip those parts (I'll give a warning). Anyways, I'll keep this short. Please remember to review and tell me what you think!**

 **Enjoy and Happy Writing!**

 **-Amber**

"Adele!"

She jerked awake, nearly falling out of her bed.

"Simon!" She shouted back, annoyed that he had woken up. A moment later, his dark hair poked into her room and he was grinning. _Bastard,_ she thought.

"Jace told me to wake you up,"

"Jace should have done it himself," she muttered, not making any attempt to move from the covers of her bed. New York could get cold very fast, especially upstate and at the point of seasonal change where autumn wasn't really over yet but winter hadn't started either.

Simon scratched his head. "At least I only yelled at you to wake up," he said, "I was calling your name six times before you finally decided to wake you up. Jace would have just dumped a glass of water or started playing drum solos against your head."

Grudgingly, she admitted he had a point. Jace had never been one for patience. He thought that when he was up at the crack of dawn, the rest of the world needed to be awake with him. And if the world decided not to cooperate...cue the start of World War Sleep.

"Where is he, by the way?"

"Out hunting demons with Isabelle," he grinned, "he said if you woke up by six, he'd consider bringing you back something from the bakery."

"How nice of him," she climbed out of bed, "threatening me with starvation if I don't listen to him."

"Not really-I've never seen you listen to him. You'd be dead by now if he actually carried out those threats."

Adele yawned, stretching. She picked up the stele by her bed and started drawing a rune on her hand.

"What are you doing?" Simon asked, looking a bit nervous. She remembered one vague incident when she was twelve in which she had accidentally drawn a wrong stroke on a rune and had set fire to the downstairs bathroom. Cursing profusely, Jace had put out the fire and yelled at her for a solid five minutes before losing steam and passing the responsibility over to a shaken Simon, who had been using the bathroom when she had so conveniently decided to set fire to it. Adele rolled her eyes, smiling.

"Relax; I'm just trying to find Jace's location."

"With a rune?" Simon looked doubtful. "You could just facetime him…"

"Yeah, right," she snorted, "he hates phones. He doesn't even like it when I have mine on me."

Simon frowned but didn't ask further details. Smart. Closing her eyes, she saw a vague hazy image she recognized as Central Park. They must have used a Portal to get there.

"Jace says you have to be ready by 6:15."

Her eyes snapped back open again. "6:15?" She glanced at the clock next to her bed. "But it's 6:10 now!"

Simon shrugged, as if it were no concern to him. "Get dressed."

Muttering about last minute plans, Adele waited until Simon was out of the room before closing the door and pulling of the top she was wearing. It was one of Jace's old shirts; he always seemed to have the best, comfiest shirts, which really wasn't fair. She pulled on another shirt, this one a present from Simon-a Star Wars shirt reference she sort of understood-and leggings. Her hair, which she had washed the night before, decided to become frizzy at the exact wrong time.

"Come on, come on," she muttered as she ran a comb through the strands, only succeeding in making them even more wild and unruly. Her hair was naturally straight, so she couldn't even blame natural causes or genetics. Giving up, she pulled it into a low ponytail and decided she would ask Isabelle to sort out the problem later.

When she went downstairs, it seemed her hopes of beating Jace to the kitchen were dashed. He was standing there with his familiar signature smirk, drinking a cup of coffee and holding something-a cinnamon bun. Her stomach growled in hunger and he knew this to; she met his gaze defiantly.

"Morning," he said. "Hungry?"

"You wish," she said underneath her breath, as she took a seat at the table. Her eyes landed on a white box at the center of the table; pastries, she guessed. Once more, her stomach growled, reminding her of the fact that she had only a sandwich to eat the night before. "I'm assuming demon hunting went well, then?"

"Obviously, by the fact that I'm still alive and talking to you." Jace finished the bun and ripped open the box of pastries. It physically hurt to see him lift a cream pastry from the box and lick some of the icing of his fingers. Sometimes, she wished she wasn't so stubborn. Were they seriously arguing over pastries and wake up times?

"Aren't you hungry?"

For a moment, Adele considered giving in. But then he was smirking at her, as if he knew the battle that was going on between her mind and stomach. Two can play this game.

"No," she replied sweetly. "Where's Isabelle?"

He shrugged. "Making something for lunch. Can't you smell it?"

Actually, she could. Slightly putrid, smelling of something poisonous. She wasn't sure how she missed that. Jace raised his eyebrows at her, waiting her verdict.

"I thought mustard gas was illegal," she finally replied. Jace's mouth quirked up into an amused grin as he chuckled.

"Eat," he said, pushing the box of pastries towards her, "or you'll have to be the guinea pig to whatever new recipe Isabelle's trying out now."

Adele seriously doubted that would even guarantee her safe. Isabelle had been known on occasions to use emotional blackmail to get her to try some new variant of oatmeal she had decided to create. Still, she grabbed a pastry from the box and bit into it. Lemon cream and meringue filled her mouth.

"Thanks," she mumbled through a mouthful. Swallowing, she reached for the coffee pot. "Can I have a mug?"

Jace grabbed a mug from the cupboard above the sink and handed it to her. She poured herself a cup of coffee, black, with no sugar and washed the pastry down with it. There was mail on the table; he ripped open an envelope. There was a black and gold seal on it.

"The Clave?"

Jace frowned as he scanned the letter inside. "Something like that," he muttered, tucking the letter away once more. "Your mom's birthday is on Saturday."

She froze. Jace was being casual about it but she could hear the underlying emotions in his tone of voice.

"That's...nice," she finally said, not knowing what else she could possibly say.

"Yeah," he agreed. He was watching her with a strange, almost unreadable expression on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shook his head. "Just...you remind me of her."

Adele nodded. She was used to people commenting on the resemblance between her and her mother. They had the same freckles, although hers were supposedly fainter and their eyes were bright emerald green, courtesy of the signature Fairchild family line. Even their noses curved up in the same fashion. Except, where her mother's hair had been bright, flaming red, her's was a pale, white blonde, so pale that in the right lighting, it looked like she had snowy white hair.

"What was my mother like?" She asked, even if she had a thousand times before. Jace cleared his throat.

"She was...stubborn, like you. And brave. Very brave. And…"

Adele could see the physical pain as he struggled to get the next words out of his mouth. Before he could say anything, however, she was already out of the chair, wrapping her arms around him. He stiffened, almost as if he was unsure what to do but then he wrapped his arms back around her. He was warm and he smelled like aftershave and something metallic. Blood, maybe. Her own father had died shortly after she had been born and Jace had found her in the nursery. She had been only a couple of months old but he had made the split second decision to save her and take her with him.

Of course, the Clave had objected. They had argued but Jace had been adamant. Isabelle, Alec, Simon and even Magnus had taken sides with him and eventually, they had allowed her to stay, underneath the condition that she be brought to them periodically. Jace had refused to tell her why.

"Did you love her?" She asked, her voice muffled where her head was buried in his shoulder.

She felt him gently stroke her hair. He wasn't normally one to openly show affection, and she had never heard him utter the words "I love you" to anyone. When she was little, she had often wondered if he was even capable of emotions. He reminded her of a machine-eat, sleep, breath, fight, kill. Now that she was older, she understood that he didn't let anyone get too close because he was afraid of losing them. Adele was one of the only who had managed to come close enough to him to hold his heart. It probably helped that she looked so much like her mother, she thought as she waited for his response.

"Yes," he said, "I...loved her."

Adele pulled back as someone entered the kitchen. Simon.

"Sorry, was I interrupting something?"

"Clary's birthday is on Saturday," Jace said, a little bleakly. Simon tensed.

"August 23rd," he said. "I remember."

They both glanced at Adele and it was as if silent understanding passed between the two of them. Simon turned away, grabbing a plate and Jace turned back to Adele.

"I called you down because I wanted to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

"I thought we might go shopping for some clothes."

Adele narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Usually, it was Isabelle who took her shopping. Simon would go if she really persisted in begging him, and Alec and Magnus would only come along to make out in the changing rooms (yes, they were _that_ loud). When she was younger, maybe up till the age of nine or ten years old, she would sometimes put on the clothes they had brought and make Jace sit down. Usually tired and half asleep, he would nod in approval as she modeled clothes, sometimes giving her a thumbs up, other times murmuring a sleepy, "deserves to be on the cover of _Vogue_ and _Seventeen."_ She didn't understand why people found him to be such a cold hearted bastard, quoting one person she had overheard on a visit to the Institute where he was the head of. He was nice. Just not nice in the way most people wanted him to be.

"It'll be fun," he shrugged. "And I need to run some errands as well."

"Isabelle's not coming?"

He glanced at the door which led to the kitchen. There were two kitchens in the house; one of them for eating and storing cutlery and another for actually cooking. It had been a major screw up by the architect who had done it but no one was complaining; it meant that everyone could eat in peace without fear of passing out from Isabelle's experiments in the second kitchen.

"Do you want her to come?" He asked, a little amused.

Adele shook her head. "No," she replied, "let's go."

Jace led the way. "Put on a jacket," he said.

"I don't have one. Mine was destroyed in the demon attack on Tuesday, remember?"

Jace sighed, running a hand through his hair. They both had the blonde hair, although his was a richer gold color then hers and much more fuller. Her own hair was pale and fine, not thick at all like his. Still, if it came to it, they could pass of as cousins.

"Right." He sighed. "Well, just take Alec's, then. It's in the hall closet."

"Won't he mind?"

The familiar smirk made its way known on his face. "I don't think he'll be getting out much. Magnus came to visit today."

Ah. That made sense. Suddenly, she was glad that she was getting out of the house. Alec's room was right next to her, and the walls to the house were thin to the point that she could hear _everything_ going on in their room. Jace and Isabelle had given her the Talk when she was thirteen but she doubted she needed it with Alec and Magnus to educate her.

"Stele?"

"Got it," she waved hers. "What about yours?"

"Always on me," he replied. "I taught you to make a portal, right?"

She nodded. He stepped back as she disappeared into the hall closet, which wasn't really a closet but a closed of room in the house that no one knew what to do with. She stopped, picking up a jacket from the floor she recognized as Alec's. It smelled old and dusty and could easily fit his six foot frame. However, she was 5'5, so she looked utterly ridiculous standing there with the jacket hanging of her.

"Adele?"

"Over here," she called. Waving her stele, she muttered something. For a moment, nothing happen. Then a faint light, growing blue and becoming brighter and brighter by the moment shone through the closet.

"Where are we going?"

"Waterwoods, Ursula's cellar."

She concentrated, trying to capture whatever vague memory she had of Ursula and her cellar. It was big and...dark, and damp. Onions. It smelled like onions and wet rope.

"Done," she said. She offered him her wrist as she pulled him through the portal. There was a tilting sensation as the world seemed to lurch and something cool on her face. Wind whipped past her, throwing her hair into disarray. She really should have braided it.

Suddenly, they stumbled out onto the floor. She nearly tripped over a sack of onions on the floor but Jace's hand shot out to stop her.

"Thanks," she said. He nodded. Her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness and she could make out onion sacks on the floor. Thousands and thousands of onion sacks.

She heard a door upstairs slam and Jace mutter a curse in French.

"Come on," he said, grabbing her arm. Another door slammed and he managed to push them back behind the stairs before the door to the cellar opened and Ursula came down.

Adele started, unabashedly although she had been told repeatedly that it was rude to do so. She couldn't help it; even Jace was staring. Ursula was a thin woman with arms and legs as long as pool noodles. Unlike pool noodles, however, her arms lacked any color. Her skin was even paler then Simon's and that was saying something; Simon was a vampire, after all.

"Shadowhunters?" Ursula called softly. A warning hand on her forearm from Jace told her not to say anything, although she wouldn't have anyways.

"Shadowhunters? Is someone down here?"

There was a tap tapping noise and Adele felt something like a chill in her blood. Being brought up in a Shadowhunter household with people like Jace and Isabelle to teach her, she had always been told that fear would end her.

"Never be afraid," Jace had told her. "Fear clouds judgement. Fear slows you down. Fear makes you weak."

So Adele forced herself to stay calm.

There was more tap tapping and it was even closer this time. Adele remembered how Ursula was blind. She couldn't remember the exact story behind it but her eyes had apparently been plucked out. The woman couldn't see. Hence, she used the stick to guide her way. In her own personal opinion, Adele thought she should have just gotten a dog, but she knew better then to suggest that.

"Shadowhunters? I heard the portal…"

She drew her stele out of her pocket and handed it to Jace. He knew what to do. Silently, he begun drawing on her skin, the runes burning and hissing as they came in contact with her skin. When he was finished, she felt an odd lightness.

She felt him push the stele into her hands. Ursula was in front of the steps now, coming round the sides, her stick tap tapping the way ahead. Jace moved back an inch and there was a crunch as he stepped on dried onion skin. As if drawn to the noise, Ursula started moving a little faster towards them.

"Hurry," he hissed quietly. Quickly, she drew the rune on the skin of his forearm, the movement familiar and sure and when she looked up, she realized with a jolt that he was semi transparent. Barely visible, and as the seconds ticked on, he kept getting fainter and fainter before she could barely make out his outline anymore.

Ursula was here. Jace gestured at her to follow and quietly, they snuck out from behind the stairs. There were onion skins littering the ground but when she put her foot down, her foot passed right through them, as they were hallucinations.

He pushed her in the direction of the stairs and she moved up the stairs. She was sweating with the effort to keep herself afloat.

"Found you!" Someone cried behind her and there was a loud smack. She nearly fell through the steps.

"Go," Jace hissed in her ear. She moved forward, passing through the slightly open cellar door into the bright light above. When she looked back, she found Jace nowhere to be seen.

"Jace?" She called.

"Shh," he was in front her, gripping his own stele. "Come on, we don't have long before the runes wear of."

They floated through the house. It was eerie how they seemed to have almost no substance, and yet that was exactly what the runes had intended to do. No substance. They were like disembodied particles floating through the air and if they had any form, they might find that one of their arms was behind their head or their legs were turned the wrong way.

They managed to pass through the front door.

"Wait here," he said. The runes were already wearing of. Her body was starting to feel heavy again, and when she looked up, Jace was starting to look normal again. Suddenly, she felt a popping sensation in her ears and she could feel her own solid feet again.

"You good?" Jace asked, looking at her.

"Yeah. What about you? Actual flesh and blood?" She reached out and tugged the sleeve of his shirt. She saw him smirking.

"The real thing," he said, "the one and only Jace Wayland."

"So arrogant," she rolled her eyes, smiling a little.

"How is that a bad thing?"

Adele shrugged half heartedly. "Come on," she said. "Before Ursula drags you back down to the cellar."  
He cringed. "You really had to bring that up, didn't you, Adele?"

She laughed, remembering the time when Ursula had caught them and insisted on making tea and cookies for them. Well, mainly for Jace. She had ignored Adele most of the time and kept her attention focused on Jace, grabbing his hand at times and making him nearly spill tea all over the ragged brown carpet. Jace hated tea but Adele loved it The visit ended with a kiss on Jace's cheek. She could never forget the expression on his face at the moment-part "I want to die," part, "If you mention this again I will kill you."

"It was funny," she argued.

He gave her a long look. "I honestly don't get your humor sometimes," he said.

Adele simply smiled up at him, batting her eyes innocently. She had quickly discovered one of Jace's weakness-puppy eyes. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, the eyes always won.

"Don't do that," he scowled, looking away.

"Do what?"

"Never mind," he shook his head. "Let's go. If we hurry, we can be done by lunch."

~:~

 _I'm back._

The letter wasn't signed.

Simon and Isabelle exchanged nervous glances. Alec picked up the letter.

"This," he said, waving the envelope around, "is going in the trash. Has Jace read it yet?"

Isabelle nodded. "I heard him from the kitchen,"

"Does Adele know?"

"No," Simon shook his head.

Alec tore up the letter, tossing the pieces into the trash.

"It's just a prank,"

"Yeah," replied Isabelle, although there was a concerned expression on her face.

"Definitely," added Simon, sounding like he didn't believe a word Alec had said. Just a prank. Just a prank. Maybe if they repeated the words enough times, they would actually start to believe them. What kind of stupid prank was this? Who would do such a thing?

Alec was the first to break the silence. "I'm going to go see Magnus,"

"Didn't you see him yesterday?"

"Yes, but we didn't get a lot of time together,"

Isabelle snorted but didn't say anything more. There was a faint burning smell coming from the kitchen. She leapt up.

"Oh, damn!" She cried. "My cookies are burning."

Alec sniffed. "You call those cookies?" He muttered cynically. "They smell like Jace's dirty socks."

"Smell a lot of those lately?" Isabelle shot back. Simon knew better to break them apart. The last time he had tried, Isabelle had tried to claw Alec's face and ended up clawing Simon's instead.

"Whatever," said Alec. "I'm going."

Isabelle watched him leave. "Boys," she said, underneath her breath, heading towards the kitchen to salvage her cookies.

~:~


	2. Chapter 2

"Adele? Are you done in there?"

In front of the mirror, Adele twisted and turned, trying to find some flaw with the outfit she was wearing. Isabelle's taste had worn of her on her and the dress she had picked out was black, covering her shoulders in a straight cut down to her legs. However, unlike Isabelle, she couldn't bring herself to buy it that easily. It only came up mid thigh and when would she ever wear it? Dinner parties? As if they got invited to those a lot. Biting her lip, she finally stepped out of the dressing room.

"What do you think?" She asked Jace who was waiting outside.

"It looks fine," he said, looking her up and down. "Are you done? We've been here for nearly half an hour."

"Such a long time," she said sarcastically, ducking back inside. If she had come in with Isabelle, they might have been here another hour or so. She decided she might as well buy the dress. Even if she had no use for it, Isabelle would love it. She slipped of the dress and put on her outfit from before.

"Alright, let's go," she folded the dress neatly over her arm and followed Jace to the register. Even with the Glamour runes he had used on both of them, they got a lot of stares. Maybe it was Jace's eyes or the way he moved-lithe, like a cat.

"There's a line," Jace said through gritted teeth.

Adele looked up and down the line. It wasn't that long, really. She had seen longer lines but she could see why it would grind on Jace's patience.  
"Do you have something to go do?" She asked.

He nodded. "The Clave's calling me again," he said, and she could see the tension in his shoulders. He wasn't particularly fond of the Clave. They had turned against him, accusing him to be Valentine's son when he wasn't. When they had finally come to their senses, it had been too late.  
"Then go," she said. "Just to see what they want. This won't take long; I'll pay and finish up and meet you outside, alright?"

She saw him hesitate for a minute. She had never understood why he was so overprotective over her. She was a trained Shadowhunter. If she continued training, she could easily become one of the best. She already excelled in combat and runes. If someone attacked her, she could easily take them down.

"Just go," she pressed. "I'll be fine. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Alright," he gave in. "I'll only be five minutes. You have your stele, right?"

She nodded. "I'm not a child anymore, Jace," she said, smiling softly. "I'll be fine on my own for a few minutes."

He was hesitating again. "Alright," he said, "but at least take my seraph."

"What's its name?" She asked as he pulled the sword hanging from his belt. She didn't recognize the sword; it was either new or she had simply never seen it before.

"Malik."

She accepted it from him, balancing the blade in her hand. It had a good balance; she could feel it in her hands. The blade seemed to be in perfect harmony, and the blade was pale steel. The hilt was dark gold and covered in runes of some sort.

"It's nice," she commented.

"It was supposed to be a present to you," he confessed. "Do you like it?"

"I love it, Jace," she whispered. "Thank you."

He just smiled. Sometimes, when she looked at him, she thought that he looked almost pained. The expression seemed to grow bigger as she grew older.

"Stay here, okay? I'll be back soon."

She nodded. "Fine," she said. He pressed some money into her hand and left to go take the call.

The line continued to ooze on. Five minutes passed, then ten and he still wasn't back. She sighed, tapping her foot as she waited. She checked the clock as another five minutes passed. When she finally got to the front of the line, she almost sighed with relief.

"How many items?" The bored teenager at the register asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" She asked.

"Can't you count?" The teenager picked at their nails. Adele's irritation grew.

"Listen," she snapped, "if you did a better job serving people, you wouldn't need to be asking this question. I get that your working on minimum wage but you can be a little less rude!"

The teenager's mouth dropped open a bit in shock. Adele put the bag on the register and started pulling out items for the teen to scan.

Everything was going well and she was getting ready to pay when there was a loud bing followed by a noise like a buzz.

The teen picked up the dress she had been trying on earlier in the dressing room.

"It's not working," they said.

Adele bit her lip, looking at the dress. She supposed they might have to go to stock and get out a new dress but she didn't really want to wait that long. Besides, was it really worth it?

"It's alright, Cecile, I'll go get another dress in the same stock,"

She turned, surprised. The source of the voice was a man, clearly older than her. He was wearing a generic shirt, the one people wore to nine to five jobs and his hair was dark brown. Holding out his hands expectantly, the teen passed the dress to him.

"Hmm...ma'am, could you come with me, please?"

"Why?"

"I'm grabbing you another dress. Cecile, bill up her total. Free of charge," he flashed her a smile that was supposed to be charming but it just made her insides churn. She looked around desperately for Jace but he was nowhere to be seen. And damn it, she hadn't brought her phone with her either.

"Ma'am?" The man prompted.

"Yes, of course," she said and followed him as he lead her past the register and down an aisle of clothing. There was a set of double doors with the words "RESTRICTED: ONLY EMPLOYEES ALLOWED."

She paused at the door even as he went in.

"Well?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "What are you waiting for?"

"Last time I checked, I'm not an employee."

He laughed. "Otherwise you'd get the employee discount!"

She forced herself to laugh, a little was wrong, something was seriously wrong. Her Shadowhunter senses were tingling. "I think I'll just stay out here."

Jace where are you? She screamed silently. I need you here! She had heard enough horror stories from Isabelle about what happen to girls who went with men like this. She didn't want to be one of those girls. Her hand tightened on the seraph blade she was holding.

As if noticing it for the first time, the man's eyes narrowed.

"Is that a sword?"

"I-" she tried to explain just as she heard pounding footsteps coming their way.

"No weapons allowed, ma'am," the man said, his voice now cold. He reached out for her. "You'll have to come with me…"

"She's not going anywhere," a familiar drawling voice said and she turned, relieved. It was Jace, standing in the aisle. His eyes and face were cold as he looked between Adele and the man.

"Sir, she is in possession of weapons…" the man started to say before Jace held up a hand, cutting him of.

"Weapons that can only be seen by demons, fellow Nephilim, or Downworlders," a cold smile graced his face. "Funny, isn't it? That you can see it?"

Suddenly, the man growled, lunging for her throat but she moved faster. Slashing her sword, she cut him straight across the chest. Ichor spilled out from the wounds her sword was leaving and he let out a hideous shriek of pain.

Jace pushed her back just as the man's head popped clean of his shoulders. She managed not to scream as something _crawled_ out of the remains of the human skin. Something with glistening, toad like skin and razor thin fangs.

" _Uriel!"_ Jace shouted, pulling a seraph out of his belt. He sliced the sword at the creature just as it leaped, aiming straight for him and the creature fell back with an agonized cry.

" _Malik!"_ She called as the creature grabbed for Jace again. This time, he wasn't so lucky and the creature managed to latch itself onto his shoe.

"Hold still!" She shouted as she stabbed her own seraph down into the body of the creature. The creature let go of Jace long enough for her to stab it again, straight through the chest.

"Is it dead?" She asked, as she pulled the seraph from the creature. The creature flopped onto the ground and now that she was closer, she could see that it was the size of a large dog. The skin was covered in some sort of slime and the mouth was pulled back, exposing teeth as long as her longest finger. The blade of the seraph was now covered in ichor and other gore. She wiped it on the sleeve of Alec's jacket, which she was still wearing. He would kill her if he found out.

Jace prodded it with his shoe. Suddenly, the creature bucked, it's head snapping back as it sprayed a shot of green liquid at his foot, covering the bottom of his jeans and sneakers with a gooey substance.

"It is now," he reported grimly. "What happen?"

She described to him what had happen but she had a feeling that he wasn't listening. Not really. His thoughts were in other places. When she finished, he didn't say anything and she had to call his name several times before he could pay attention to her.

"Hmm?"

"Well?" She demanded. "Aren't you going to lecture me on being irresponsible? That I should have 'known better?"

He dismissed it with a flick of his hand. "Don't worry; Isabelle, Alec and Simon will deal with it."

Her heart sank as he said, "Grab your things from the register and pay. We're leaving." She noticed he couldn't meet her eyes as she followed him to the register.

~:~

True to word, shit hit the fan as soon as she got home.

Adele didn't know when Jace had time to tell the others what had happen but they seemed filled in on everything.

"Sit down, Adele," Isabelle said as soon as she had pulled of her shoes. Her tone of voice was deadly quiet and Adele knew she was screwed when Alec, Simon and even Magnus joined them. Jace disappeared to his room, leaving her to suffer on her own.

"Adele, how _could_ you?"

By the name of the Angel, she hated when Isabelle made her voice broken hearted like that. It worked even more effectively then just screaming at her.

"I, I don't know. It just...happen, and Jace left so I was thinking about that-"

"Jace _left_ you?" It was Simon who had cut in.

"Yes," she said, "but it wasn't his fault, it was the Clave-"

"Those idiots," Isabelle muttered. "I told them not to...they weren't supposed to...bothering him…"

"Idiots or not, Isabelle, Jace was supposed to look after Adele," Simon said. "And he left her. By herself."

"He left me with my stele and seraph!"

"It doesn't matter," Simon leaned forward. "Adele, there are bad people after you-"

"That's enough, Simon," Isabelle interrupted angrily. "Ignore him, Adele…"

"What do you mean, bad people?" She asked, her heart pounding in her ears. "What are you talking about?"

"No one's told her," it was Magnus who had now spoken. His hair was mused and messed up and for once, devoid of any glitter or sparkles. He looked surprised. "After all that's happen-"

"Especially after all that's happen," Isabelle said.

"Isabelle-"

"Simon, it's final, we're not telling her!" Isabelle's voice rose in pitch but Simon's own rose as well, meeting the challenge.

"We need to tell her! She's no longer a child, Isabelle, she'll be sixteen in a month!"

"She can't be involved!"

He looked mad enough to kill. Adele briefly wondered if he was just doing all this because he was hungry. It wouldn't be the first time.

"That's what you said about Clary!" He screamed. "And look what happen to her! She's dead, Isabelle, she's _dead._ Someone should have told her!"

Shocked silence fell at the mention of Adele's dead mother. Alec had his mouth clenched tightly and his hands in fists and Magnus was massaging the knuckles of his hands. Simon and Isabelle were staring each other down and they would have stayed this way for a while if not for the small throat clear at the door of the living room.

"Adele?" It was Jace; his hair was wet and there were dark shadows underneath his eyes. The silence turned awkward as everyone realized that he had probably been standing there for a while, listening to the whole argument.

"Jace," she said, standing up. "Jace, you'll explain, I know you will. What happen to my mom? What happened to Clary-"

" _Adele."_ She froze, hearing her name like that. Never had she heard a name uttered in such a heartbreaking way, with such raw emotion. Jace Wayland, the usually composed and calm Jace Wayland, on the verge of a mental breakdown? He looked ready to...cry. This was so wrong. So, so wrong.

"Uh, never mind," she said. "Look, I'm sorry I snuck of, alright? You're right, it was my fault. I am to blame. I won't do it again, I promise."

She was only doing it to decrease the stiflingly awkward pressure in the room. Jace was the first one to move away, into the kitchen, as if accepting her apology silently, and Isabelle and Simon got up, awkwardly following him. Alec and Magnus stayed on the couch, watching her.

"What?" She asked.

"Nothing," Alec said.

"You look so much like your mother," Magnus replied, gazing at her. Briefly, she wondered if he was intoxicated. People tended to avoid the subject of her mother as if they were worried someone might flip out and decide to kill them. A harsh look from Alec to Magnus told her she was right.

"Thank you," she finally said. There was no reply.

~:~

"Jace?" She called softly, opening the door to his room. She knew she should knock; she thought she had learnt her lesson when she was fourteen years old and had walked into Isabelle and Simon's room. It was the first time she had seen a race-"Who could get their clothes on fastest" and it certainly wasn't the last, with all of them cramped into a house together.

Jace wasn't one for amorous relationships. He might pick up someone from a bar if he went there with Simon or Alec but they never stayed long. When she had been younger, there had been streams of women, at a time, entering and exiting his room, sometimes twice in the same night with different women. Eventually, the flow stopped. He stopped wanting to go out, he stopped wanting to have the zeal to carry on with his life. He hid it well, behind mountains and mountains of work and paperwork coming through his desk from the Clave but she had heard Simon and Isabelle talking about it one day.

"I think it's depression," Isabelle had said. "What do we do?"

"We can't tell the Clave...he wouldn't like...lay him of…"

Little snatches of conversation but it had filled her in on enough.

"Adele," Jace was lying on his bed, gazing up at the ceiling. He was dressed in a crew neck grey t-shirt and loose black boxers.

"Are you okay?" She sat down by his head, putting a hand to his forehead to take his temperature. He felt fine. In fact, if anything, his temperature felt a little too low.

"I'm fine," he muttered. She let her fingers rest on his forehead for a moment longer before pulling them back. "Are you okay?"

"Never better," she smiled. "Thanks for taking me shopping."

"No problem. I had a feeling you were getting bored in the house anyways."

"Yeah," she said. She started tracing circles on his stomach, something she used to enjoy doing when she was younger. It had been a game back then, as she would spell out random phrases like "Too cool" or "Jace is an idiot" and it was Jace's job to figure out what she was trying to say. "Listen, do I _really_ look like my mother to you?"

"Clary? Yes," he murmured, his eyes fluttering closed. He seemed to be relaxing, at least.

"How?" She demanded. "Tell me."

"Same eyes. Same nose. Same smile," his voice was soft and wistful.

"And my father?"

"I never met him," and she felt him tense. "So I couldn't say."

"Oh. Okay."

There was silence as she contemplated what to say next. Jace's breathing had evened itself out and she thought he was asleep. She started to get up but a hand on her wrist stopped her.

"Stay," he mumbled. "Please."

She sat back down, happy to oblige.

"When I was younger," she started to say, and then paused, stopping herself, "sorry, I'll let you sleep."

"No, go on. I want to hear what you have to say."

"Alright." She swallowed, not knowing if she was doing the right thing or not. "When I was younger, I thought, don't judge me, it was kind of stupid, but I don't know, I just _thought_ that you were my father."

Jace's eyes fluttered open as he stared at her.

"What?" He whispered.

"I told you it was stupid," she said. "It's just...you're so nice to me and we even look alike, sort of, and you've always been really kind and caring and Isabelle, Simon and Alec, and even Magnus, they're like family…"

He grasped her hand. He had artistic fingers, long, slim and graceful. He played piano and had even taught her to play. They'd sit for hours after dinner and he'd correct her and they'd learn pieces together.

"I know," he said softly. "I've always loved you, I just want you to understand that."

"I love you too," she said, swallowing. "And Isabelle, Simon, Alec and Magnus."

"Family," he said, softly.

"Family," she repeated. He looked vulnerable, not soft, but vulnerable. He let go of her hand, smiling before settling back down.

"Do you want to practice piano or are you tired?"

"It's fine; we can do it tomorrow."

"Alright," Jace said. He hugged her and she inhaled his familiar scent. When she had been younger and scared, of some silly thing or another like monsters in the closet, she'd come to his room and climb into his bed and no matter how late it was and no matter how tired, he would move over to make room for her and hug her to his chest.

"Goodnight," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Adele," he replied, and she smiled, shutting the door to his room.

~:~


	3. Chapter 3

" _Clarissa, Clarissa, Clarissa," a voice murmured. "Must you keep struggling? Your only making this more difficult on yourself._

" _Stop!" A voice shrieked. "STOP!"_

Adele woke up, her fingers knotted in the sheets of the bed. She was gasping for breath. Those voices...she recognized them. Shakily, she ran a hand through her hair. Isabelle had managed to sort it out earlier and now the hair fell down her hair neatly, if not a little messy.

The house was quiet as it usually was at night, unless someone decided that they needed to have another naked wrestling match in their rooms. Quietly, she got out of bed, the bed creaking slightly with the absence of her weight, and padded down the hallway, towards the stairs and down the kitchen.

She passed Jace's room and paused to listen; there was murmuring on the other side of the door and for a moment, she thought that he had finally gotten out of his stupor and invited someone from the club over. She turned, ready to go but froze when she heard her name.

"Adele…"

For a moment, she was afraid she had been caught but then she heard him say something else. She leaned closer to the door, wondering what he was talking about so late at night. She had forgotten to bring her stele with her or otherwise she would have drawn a rune that would easily allowed her to eavesdrop. However, she didn't want to risk going back to her room and so she stayed completely silent and still as she pressed her ear to the door.

"...yes, I know, but," she heard him give a frustrated sigh as he stayed silent, listening to whatever the other person was saying. She could only assume he was on the phone; he didn't like people coming to the house, especially with Adele around. However, sometimes it simply couldn't be avoided. "...she's not a _child,_ she understands and I really think…yes, the rune protects her, but how long can it…listen to me…"

He was obviously talking about her. No one else could get him this worked up. And what rune was he talking about? He hadn't given her any runes recently besides the rune from earlier at Ursula's cellar and she had watched with her own eyes as it wore of. A little uneasy, she forced herself to listen more.

"...well, then _you_ suggest something...I'm not being _rude..._ you're misinterpreting things…"

Somewhere down the hall, a door opened. Adele stiffened, not knowing whether to run, hide, or stay where she was. Dimly, she could make out Isabelle's tall, slim figure. It was headed the opposite direction, probably to the bathroom but she couldn't risk it; when Isabelle came back, she would be able to see Adele. She waited until the door to the bathroom opened and Isabelle disappeared inside before slowly creeping down the stairs to the kitchen.

She poured herself a glass of water, trying to forget the whole nightmare business. She hadn't had nightmares in years; why was she having them now, all so suddenly? She poured herself another glass of water and chugged it down. Maybe she should talk to Jace. But would that be childish? He did, after all, more important things to worry about besides her. No, she decided, she wouldn't tell him about the nightmare. It was nothing.

On impulse, Adele walked to the window besides the piano. The view from here was beautiful and the piano's ivory and black keys caught the moonlight. She wondered if Jace had done it on purpose; position the piano in the moonlight on purpose. It was hard tell with him; he was unpredictable and moody at his worst times. She thought back to his earlier conversation, in his room. Who had he been talking to? And why did he sound so...agitated? Briefly, she considered the events that had taken place earlier today. Had it been that?

She gazed out to the garden, the one Jace and Alec tended to. The moonlace he had planted was starting to bloom, opening its delicate snow white petals up towards the sky. There were Isabelle's roses next to them, bright and blood red and lovely. Alec wasn't into gardening and neither was Simon, which left her. She usually just helped Jace, but once when she was around eight years old, she had decided to take her chances and plant carrots. The plants had died within a week of sprouting and she had cried; Simon had shaken his head and comforted her while Jace had laughed and said Clary would have done the same.

 _Clary._ Her mother. She frowned. She had died shortly after giving birth to her due to complications. What was she like? Nice? Stubborn, she had been told, and brave. Funny, like Jace? Somehow, she doubted it. Jace needed someone to balance him out, someone more serious and grounded then he was. Clary seemed like the sort of person to do that. Isabelle had once told her that after Clary came into Jace's life, he had become, not kinder but more willing to show his kindness. He was unkind, harsh, strict but he had always been nice to Adele. Did this also have to do with her mother?

There was a movement next to the window. Adele moved closer. The window was closed at night and shut with enchanted locks, so she couldn't open it if she tried to. Still, she pressed her face against the cool glass panes, peering down onto the garden below.

There was nothing there. She stayed still for a few more moments, trying to remember what had drawn her to the window. Something moving...yes...She nearly screamed when something dark darted past the window. Her hand hit the cover of the piano behind her and the stand holding up the cover broke, falling but she reached out and caught it before it could snap down on the keys below. Her fingers were screaming in pain and she had to bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. Looking in the direction of the doorway, she checked that no one had heard anything but the house was silent once more.

Quietly, she crept to the back door, opening the latch. She had lived in this house her entire life and knew it like her own body. The front door was locked with demon repelling runes and so were all the windows on the first floor and her bedroom window, but the backdoor was almost always left open for either Alec or Magnus, who would sometimes go clubbing late at night and not return until three in the morning.

She slipped out and the door shut behind her before she could remember to bring a jacket or her stele, which she would need to open the door. She muttered a low curse. What now? And was this really a good idea? What if there was something there, more powerful then she had anticipated and she had no way to fight it of? And how would she let herself back in? She glanced up at the house, towards the second floor window which she knew was Alec's. Magnus had gone home hours ago so there was no chance she would accidentally catch them screwing on the bed but would Alec snitch on her? She had a feeling that he wouldn't; he was the cool uncle type while Jace and Simon were the overprotective fathers and Isabelle the matronizing mother. If she climbed up the roof and rapped on the window...he might be able to open it.

There was a noise behind her and she turned quickly, trying to find the source. The night air was frigid and cold and she was shivering so badly that her teeth had begun to chatter; the only thing she had on was a loose grey sweatshirt and black pajama pants. She moved forward, further away from the house.

Coming around the side of the house, she let her eyes adjust to the dark. She had unusually good night vision but she credited it to the unhealthy amount of carrots she had liked to eat when she was younger. Her eyes scanned the low cut bushes and grass around her. The ground was covered in a thin layer of frost which crunched underneath her feet as she moved. Jace would kill her if she got frostbite, which was unfair. He would have done the same thing.

She saw something on the ground. It was a ring on a necklace and it was pretty. She picked it up, running a hand over the ring. In the faint light, she could see that it was a band of gold with bronze edges and the letter 'M' on it. She was startled to realize that Jace wore almost the exact same ring on his finger except his was silver and grey and the letter wasn't an M it was a W. Then why-

Something whistled through the air and it was only instinct that made her crouch and roll to the side. She felt a breeze past her head and when she looked of to her side, she saw a huge ax planted in the spot she had just been standing. Her eyes widened as she felt her gaze travel up the handle of the ax to the person wielding it.

A demon, grinning and red skinned, was staring at her. He (she was assuming it was a he mainly due to the absence of the certain female anatomy that usually covered female demon's fronts) was dressed in a tunic. The upper part of his skin was made of scales, overlapped together poorly and she had to force herself not to recoil from the huge crack in the middle of his face, splitting the scales and making them split of in different directions. She wasn't even sure how he was grinning; was it anatomically possible? However, she had no time to be asking these questions before the ax was swinging for her head again.

She rolled to the side and stumbled to her feet.

"JACE!" She screamed. "SIMON! ISABELLE! ALEC-"

The demon moved impossibly fast and before she could react, he had butted her back with the handle of the ax. She fell, her head hitting the grass painfully and for a moment, the world unfocused and she only saw black. Gasping, she forced herself up, moving back a few inches. If she was going to die, she wasn't going to go without a fight, helpless and at mercy on the ground.

The ax was coming for her again and she ducked. As she started to get up, the ax swung back and she nearly lost her balance as she forced herself to remain crouched.

"Adele!" A voice shouted somewhere in front of her.

"Over here!" She shouted as she tried to break free and run. Big mistake. She exposed her sides and in that moment, the demon swung his ax straight towards her. The end of the ax crashed into her ribs and stomach as she keeled over, trying not to vomit or scream. The demon rushed towards her and poked the end of the ax into her back, forcing her to the ground. Her vision was swimming and she felt like she might puke.

The demon's hand reached out to grab her hair, forcing her heard back but a minute later he let go. Confused, she tried turning her head. There was someone screaming. Was it her? No, they were inhumane, unearthly sounds of pain. When she looked at the demon, he had dropped the ax. He was clutching one of his hands in the other and there was some kind of smoke rising of him.

She saw Jace run towards him, seraph in hand. The demon didn't have time to move to defend itself as Jace stabbed the seraph into its chest. She felt a hand on her back and she was suddenly lying on her back, against the cold grass. Her teeth had begun to chatter again and she tasted something metallic in her mouth-blood.

"...Adele...wake up...hold…" It was Alec. She could make out his vague features and the concern in his voice. A moment later, she saw Jace's head too. Her vision was fading to black and his features were blurry so she couldn't see the expression on his face.

 _He must be angry..._ was the last thing she thought before she passed out.

 **A/N: I would like to thank Bastille's Club for reviewing and following this story as well as 777 for favoriting and following. Thanks for the support guys! I appreciate it!**

 **Please remember as always to review and tell me what you think.**

 **Happy Writing!**

 **-Amber**


	4. Chapter 4

"Jace?"

It was Isabelle, standing in the doorway. Jace turned away from the figure lying on the bed, a blanket pulled up to her chin and her long blonde hair scattered on the pillows supporting her.

"Yes?" He asked. A muscle in his jaw twitched but other then that, no emotion betrayed his otherwise calm face. He met Isabelle's eyes and she met his; she hadn't changed out of her nightwear clothes and there was something dark staining the fronts of her shirt and pants. Probably blood. Adele had been gushing from, well, pretty much _everywhere_ as they had carried her back inside.

"I think we need to see the Silent Brother's again."

Jace turned away, a scowl already beginning to form on his face.

"Listen-"

"No, Isabelle, you listen to me," he took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists, "they won't help. Trust me, they _won't help."_

Isabelle set her mouth stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. "And why not?" She demanded.

Jace ran a hand through his hair, glancing once in the direction of Adele. A healing iratze rune had fixed the bruises on her sides. Magnus had promised to come by that morning to check for a concussion or any signs of brain damage but other then that, she seemed to be fine. She was still unconscious, but that had been intentional; they had decided to knock her out.

"Let's talk about this privately," he suggested.

"Is she awake?"

"No," and both of their eyes flickered to Adele. A silent understanding passed between the two of them as Isabelle silently nodded and moved out of the way, letting Jace come out of the room. He shut the door behind him softly.

"The rune is wearing of on her."

Isabelle's eyes widened and she swore openly. "That's not...good," she muttered. "And there's no way to put the rune back on?"

"No one knows how to, that's the problem. And I've been trying to contact someone who thinks they could do it but they won't be here for another week."

"This is bad," Isabelle said.

"I know," replied Jace and there was the old irritable snap to his voice again, as if he had long tired of everyone's incompetency and was now deciding to take matters back into his own hands.

"Why can't we get the Silent Brothers? I'm sure they can-"

"They don't know, Isabelle, they have no idea."

Isabelle looked at her adoptive brother. "What do you mean, they have no idea?" She hissed.

"I mean, I never told them." For a moment, Jace looked almost nervous. "The last thing I needed was for them to think that it was a demon rune or something and then she would be snatched away-"

"You're so selfish, I hope you realize that," she said angrily. "What are we going to do now?"

"We wait."

"That's your brilliant plan?" Jace opened his mouth but Isabelle cut him of. "That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard!"

"Keep your voice down," he said through gritted teeth, "and yes, I know my plan isn't exactly the best one there is but do you have any better ideas? Because if you don't then just shut up."

"Yes, several," she fumed, "for one, let's start with telling the Silent Brothers."

"Weren't you paying attention? We can't do that!"

"Jace!" Isabelle finally shouted, loud enough to alert the whole house about their argument. "Can you get your head out of your ass, for once in your life? Haven't you been paying attention? Two demon attacks within a day of each other. They _know."_

Jace's jaw tightened. Simon appeared up the stairs a minute later, clutching a mug of something. It could have been blood or tea; it hardly seemed to make a difference to the two siblings staring daggers at each other.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly, alerting them to his presence.

"Everything alright?"

"Of course, Simon," Jace replied bitingly, "it's like we have staring contests like this _all the time._ In fact, we make it into a annual event. Winner takes all."

"No need to use a tone with me, Wayland. Isabelle, are you okay?"

Isabelle looked at him coldly, looking ready to murder him but Simon wasn't even fazed.

"This idiot," she gestured at Jace, "has the brilliant idea of waiting another week to get the rune cast on Adele."

Jace threw up his hands. "What do you suggest, then? Tell the Brothers and risk getting expelled from the Clave?"

"Yes," Isabelle said, surprising them both. "Yes, I do. If it protects Adele, sure."

He stared at her as if she were mad but she stared back calmly. "You're crazy," he finally seemed to decide. "There's no way I'm telling the Brothers."

Isabelle let out a low growl as Jace opened the door to Adele's room and the door shut behind him.

"Sometimes I want to cut him open and-" she paused, as if seeming to notice Simon's presence for the first time. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Oh no, please do continue," he replied, breezily, "I love hearing death threats against him. It gives me time to plot some more creative ideas."

Isabelle laughed, her mood lightening a little as he stepped closer to her. She arched an eyebrow.

"Something you need, Lewis?" She asked, her mouth quirking in that way of hers. It reminded him a little of Jace's own smirk except hers was playful while his was mean.

"Yes," he murmured, grasping her wrist. The skin was warm and soft where he touched as he ran a hand over the runes that inked their way across most of her skin. "You."

He crashed his lips onto her and she complied, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him in the direction of their room…

~:~

"Jace?"

"Adele," in a moment, he was by the side of her bed. "How do you feel?"

"Great," she murmured, trying to sit up. A dull throb was in her head and she had to focus on her breathing so she wouldn't puke. "How long-"

"A day," Jace said.

"A day?" She repeated, sounding dubious. She paused, looking up to his gouge his expression. Something was wrong. His normally arrogant, cocky demeanor was gone, replaced by a look of ice. He wasn't exactly glaring at her but staring at her in a way that made her shrink back a little. "What?"

"I think you know exactly what, Adele,"

"It wasn't my fault."

"Oh?" He said, and there was a sarcastic edge to his voice. "I suppose you just 'woke up' and you found yourself outside, all by 'yourself?'"

"If you believe in that sort of thing, sure."

He sat down on the edge of her bed. "Good thing I don't, then," he replied. "I'll ask you once-what were you doing outside?"

"Alright," she finally sighed, "I got up to get water, and then I was looking out the window. I saw something move past so I went out to investigate."

"That's it?" Jace said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Yes," she couldn't keep the snap out of her voice, "what else would you think?"

"He thinks you had a secret boyfriend," a voice came from the door and she looked to see that it was Alec. "He thought that you were meeting up or something, getting cozy and-"

"Shut it, Alec," Jace growled. Alec just smiled benignly and Adele couldn't help but snicker. He shot her a look of warning and she shut up. "This is serious. Why in the name of the Angel would you go outside, at night, by yourself without your stele or seraph? Have you gone mad?"

"No," she said.

"Then why-"

Again, the door opened and Jace turned towards it, a look of barely suppressed irritation on his face. It was Magnus, who raised an eyebrow first at Jace and then at Adele.

"I take the lecturing isn't going very well, then?" He asked.

"With all of you interrupting anytime I try, then yes!"

Adele rolled her eyes. "I think I get the general idea, anyways, Jace. I was stupid, reckless, and most importantly, I _nearly_ could have died."

Alec and Magnus exchanged a look and Jace just look exasperated.

"Nearly," Adele repeated, in case her point has not yet been made yet. "I _nearly_ died."

"It doesn't matter if you nearly died. _Nearly_ dying is as good as _dying_ dying."

She tilted her head to the side. "Then what's the difference?"

Jace looked like he wanted to smack someone. She reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could and although his face remained cold and angry, she saw his mouth relax a little.

"Are you done, Jace?" Magnus asked behind him. "Or do you need to add some things you've forgotten to mention?"

For a moment, they stared at each other. Jace was glowering and Magnus met his gaze cooly. Alec glanced once at Adele, sending her a look as if to say, "When will this ever end?" before stepping in.

"Hey," he chided lightly, poking his boyfriend in the chest. "No fighting in front of the kids, remember?"

"I'm not a kid!" Adele protested. "And there's certainly not multiple of me in here."

At least Jace and Magnus backed of each other. He looked at her, relaxing a little bit and his eyes strayed down to her hand which was still on his wrist. When she looked back at Magnus, they were staring at each other with what she called 'sex eyes.'

Apparently, Jace noticed this too.

"Don't you have to heal her?" He asked, his voice unnecessarily loud for the space they were in. Alec was the first to tear his gaze away, his cheeks flushing, but Magnus took his own sweet time, staring at his boyfriend for a few more long moments before finally looking up.

"I need to check Adele for brain damage," he said, and she saw he was carrying a small bag in his hand. She watched as he pulled something out, a brown vial filled with some kind of liquid. "Not seeing double, right?"

"What?" She asked, startled. "No, of course not…"

"Hmm," he said, "does your head hurt?"

"A little." She put a hand to her head. Was her head unusually hot or was that her imagination? She pulled her hand back as Magnus held the vial out to her.

"What's this?"

"Just drink it," he replied, as means of explanation. Reluctantly, she popped open the vial, sniffing the contents. It smelled slightly herbal and earthy, like the garden after it had rained. She stared at it, oddly fascinated. What would it be like, to be buried in the earth on all sides, packed by pounds and pounds of dirt? Or to drown? No space but to fall down.

"Staring at it isn't going to change anything," Jace's bored voice interrupted her thoughts. As if in a haze, she looked up at him. His wide amber eyes regarded her and suddenly, the face wasn't his own; the hair whitened, the eyes darkened and the features became sharper and more pronounced. The mouth twisted up into a grin and the person said something. She gasped, dropping the vial, and it fell to the floor with a crash. She blinked, trying to reach for something to throw but the person was gone and in his place again was Jace, staring at her with concern in his eyes.

"Adele!" Alec reached out for her, grabbing her hand and pulling it back. She realized she was trembling. "What was that?" He turned, asking Magnus who was looking at her as well.

"I don't know," Magnus admitted finally, "but did you see her eyes? For a moment, I could have sworn they went…" he trailed of, not bothering to finish the sentence.

"Look like what?" Adele asked, swallowing. Jace was crouched down on the floor, staring at the dropped vial like it might provide clues.

"Black," Magnus finally said, "I thought they went black."

"That's ridiculous," Jace replied sharply, finally getting up. "And it's impossible."

"Jace…" Alec said softly, "I think we should begin to consider the possibility that…"

"That what?"

"That maybe…" again he trailed of.

"That's what I thought," Jace said softly, ending the discussion. Magnus stared in silence at Jace until he, too, turned away and moved towards Adele. He reached out a hand to her forehead, and kept it there for a few moments. When he finally pulled away, he was looking at Jace.

Jace's mouth tightened. "A temperature?"

"A very severe one, too, that." Magnus said. He pulled something out from a pocket of the bag. She recognized it as a dragon stone. The stone was accurate at reading the temperature of something, turning bluer and bluer the coldern something was and redder the hotter it was. She wasn't sure how he had managed to have one. They were tricky and rare to find and the only one she had seen was the one Alec brought back last year from a mission for the Clave, chipped in the corner with a crack running down the center. Ah. She looked at the stone in Magnus's hand. The stone had the same chip and the crack had gotten even bigger than the last time she had seen it. She had a feeling she knew what Alec had given Magnus for his birthday.

Magnus placed the stone onto her forehead. It felt cool and comforting. From the angle it was set, she couldn't see it change color but she did get to watch everyone's reaction as the dragon stone changed colors.

Seconds passed. Than a minute. Then two. Finally, he pulled the stone away and she was alarmed to see that the stone was smoking, glowing bright red.

"Magnus!" Alec snatched the stone from him, and sure enough, there were bright red splotches on Magnus's skin. Alec set the stone down on the bedside table, where it continued smoking.

"I'm fine," he replied through gritted teeth. "Her temperature is very high, Jace. Too high for her to be alive. I don't know how-"

"How high?" In a minute, Jace's hand was on her forehead. His fingers were warm and she leaned into them. He pulled back, hissing softly. She was alarmed to see fresh burns decorating his hand. Guilt and shame crept in as she looked away.

"I don't have an exact number," Magnus said.

"Is she sweating?" Alec asked.

"No," Jace lifted her hair of her shoulders, checking the back of her neck for any signs of perspiration. Adele noted how he made care not to touch any part of her skin. "She's not." Disbelief colored his voice and he stared at her as if she were an abomination of some sort.

"I don't feel hot," she said. It was true. She felt like a glass of lukewarm water, left out in a room for too long. She put a hand to her forehead and kept it there; there was no burn, no smell of sizzling skin. "What's happening? Do I look weird?"

No one answered because they were to busy looking at her in disbelief. The door opened and Isabelle came into the room. Adele's eyes flickered over to her and she didn't fail to notice how Isabelle was wearing Simon's shirt and not her own. Her hair was mused and messed up.

"What'd I miss?" She asked, with a yawn. When no one answered her, she frowned. "Guys, are you-"

"Feel her forehead, Isabelle," Alec interrupted, his voice faint. "It's hot, isn't it?"

Her frown deepened but she complied, coming closer and putting a hand to Adele's forehead. A minute later, she jerked back, swearing profusely.

"Shit, shit, shit," she said, jerking her hand wildly as she blew on it. The burns were even more severe then the ones on Jace, Magnus or Alec's hands. "You're wrong; she's not burning up, she's practically on fire!" She turned to Jace, looking at him imploringly. "Jace, you know we _need_ to tell the Silent Brother's."

For a moment, it looked like Jace might argue. The potential seemed there; his hands clenched, his jaw tightened and his mouth took a hard resolve to it.

But when he finally spoke, his voice sounded tired and resigned.

"Alright. We'll tell them." He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, dialing a number. The line connected and he shoved the phone towards Isabelle, who took it with a look of surprise.

"Just explain the situation to them," he said, turning towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Adele asked curiously.

"I have somewhere I need to be," he mumbled and he was gone before she could formulate a reply.

~:~


	5. Chapter 5

"...should we wake her up…"

"...don't touch...burns…"

Adele opened her eyes, her head groggy. She felt like she might throw up but she swallowed it down when she saw who was at the door.

Brother Grigori was standing at the door, dressed in the usual Silent Brother's attire of dark cloak. His hood was drawn back, exposing lips that were sewn shut together and she had to force herself not to stare and be rude. His skin had a pale, greyish quality to it and even as he moved closer, she could see that he wasn't walking on the floor. Not really; he was more floating along, the ends of his cloak dragging behind him fluidly.

 _Young Adele Herondale,_ his voice came in her head a moment later. Her eyes widened a little as she realized that no one else had heard the voice but her. Jace, who was standing, leaning against the wall next to the open door, was watching the exchange with his hands crossed across his chest. Magnus was standing somewhere of to the side, and she couldn't see Simon or Alec, but Isabelle entered the room a moment later.

 _It's...nice to meet you,_ she tried thinking. Brother Grigori didn't react but his voice came a moment later in her head.

 _Master Herondale tells me that you are ill._

Master Herondale? She blinked.

 _Kind of,_ she admitted. _I have a temperature._

Brother Grigori came even closer. It was as if he had an air of chilliness around him; she could actually feel the damp coldness radiating of him, but it didn't seem to affect her that much. In fact, she realized she could no longer feel the cold. Surprised, she looked down. The blankets were thrown of the bed and the window was open. She should have been freezing. As a cold draft blew through the room, she felt the wind brush her cheek, flinging her hair past her cheek, but the usual coldness that should have followed was absent.

 _Interesting._

She got up, moving stiffly towards the window. She saw Jace tense through the corners of her eyes, but she wasn't going to jump out or anything; she just reached out, grabbed the latch and slammed the window shut. Her hands were shaking and she managed to clasp them behind her back, hiding them from everyone's sight.

"What's happening to me?" She demanded out loud. "I don't feel cold, I have a temperature…"

"Adele," said Magnus, "sit down, please."

Her eyes narrowed, but she complied, throwing herself down on the bed. She saw Jace wince and realized that all the moving around was probably not good for her healing ribs.

"Sorry," she said, "but seriously, what's happening?"

Brother Grigori looked at Jace, who stared back calmly. It seemed that they weren't telling her something. She saw something pass between them, something silent, and Jace was the first to turn away.

"Jace? Where are you…" her voice trailed of as he walked out of the door, not bothering to glance back once. He was acting strange, too strange, in fact, she realized, for it to be coincidence.

"Isabelle, what-" she paused when she realized that Isabelle was already walking out the door too, throwing a bare glance at her and a soft smile before leaving. "Magnus…"

Magnus seemed to not be in an argument with Brother Grigori. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he seemed to be concentrating very hard, almost as if he were trying to kill him with his gaze. Brother Grigori didn't even flinch as he pointed towards the door and the inclination was clear- _get out._

"Where are you going, Magnus?" Adele asked, a little panicked.

"Adele, you need to listen to him. He's going to...ask you a few questions."

"Questions?" Oh no, she didn't like questions. She hated them. It always felt like she was being interrogated for something she didn't even do wrong. "Wait-"

The door slammed shut behind him and she was left behind with Brother Grigori. She watched him warily; she couldn't say that she exactly trusted him. After the majority of the Silent Brother's had been killed almost twenty years ago, by Valentine, their numbers had taken a significant blow. Luckily, all the Silent Brother's hadn't been in the Silent City at the time of the attack, or they might have all died.

 _Adele Herondale, as your warlock mentioned, I will be asking you some questions._

She didn't say anything, choosing to watch him suspiciously. Two can play the silence game.

"What kind of questions?" She finally asked, when he didn't say anything, just regarded her with those hollow sunken eyes of his. All the mind communication was honestly tiring and since no one else was in the room with them, there was really no need for secrecy. "I don't know much, honestly…"

 _These types of questions won't require any answers from you. They will require answers from your mind._

My mind, she thought. My mind. She thought about it. Some stranger invading her mind, finding out her most personal memories and innermost workings. Even if it was to find out what was wrong with her, she didn't want someone seeing her mind.

"No."

If Brother Grigori still had the ability to move his face, he might have raised his eyebrows at her.

"You must understand," she said, and immediately thought that was the wrong thing to Brothers had been stripped of their humanity for as long as they had been part of the Brotherhood; they probably weren't even capable of human emotion anymore. How would he be able to understand? "These are private emotions and thoughts…"

His voice cut her of in her head. _And you think I haven't seen these thoughts already?_

She froze, the idea just occuring to her. He was communicating to her through telepathy; who was to say that he couldn't see the rest of her thoughts? Her cheeks flushed a little as she imagined his reaction to all the times she had acted stupid. Or been yelled at. How much had he seen, exactly? Could he see her thoughts even now, as she was thinking them?

"Alright," she said finally, "if you can access my thoughts why do you need permission?"

 _Your memories are hazy,_ he replied. _I cannot see them properly if you do not grant me permission to access them._

The whole thing sounded like one dubious ploy. She bit her bottom lip, chewing it before finally agreeing. He had already viewed her memories, or at least the equivalent preview of it. There wasn't much she could do to deny it now.

"Fine. What do I need to do?"

 _Close your eyes. Relax. Breath._

All helpful advice, she thought as she closed her eyes, if I'm trying to go to sleep. She relaxed her shoulders, untensing them and trying to feel light. That was what relaxation was, right? She took a few deep breaths like when she was younger and upset and Isabelle or Alec would force her to take a 'breather' to calm down. Her mind strayed to sunlight, sunshine, strawberry ice cream, and watermelon. She loved watermelon. The sweet red juice that flowed down her fingers and the seeds that she spit out, having lazy, relaxed seed spitting competitions with Jace and Simon, quickly turning into a Jace vs. Simon thing with both men competing to extreme lengths and her being the judge…

Adele almost didn't register when she fell through the darkness. Suddenly, she was lying down somewhere and when she tried to move, she found she couldn't. Instead of panicking or resisting, she forced herself to lie still, to see how this would all play out. She found she could move her neck so she did. Glancing around her, she realized she was in a slatted crib of some sort. There were bars around her head and looking up, something hung from her head, brightly colored and plastic. She tried to reach out a hand and touch it but the toy hung out of her reach. Sighing, she resigned herself to simply lying there.

"Master Jonathan?"

She turned her head towards the voice, finding some comfort in it for some reason. A moment later, she caught the whiff of strong perfume, flowery and sweet, like roses on a hot summer day. Suddenly, she was being picked up, a hand slipping underneath her thigh and resting on her back. A moment later, she felt someone patting her back. While it did feel comforting, she couldn't help but wonder why she was being treated like a baby.

"Rebecca," a man's voice came through and she heard pounding footsteps. "How is Adeline?"

Adeline? She realized it must be her, but her name was Adele, nothing but Adele. Who was the man and why was he calling her names? She tried twisting, turning to see the man but the woman, Rebecca, she was assuming, just made cooing noises.

"Hush, Adeline, your father is here,"

A moment later, she felt empty space and suddenly she was being placed in someone else's arms. Warm, and the person smelled good. She looked up, but the man's face was vague and hazy...she felt like she had seen him somewhere before but where exactly…

"Adeline, remember me?"

Apparently, she did. She felt herself coo happily and reach for him but it wasn't really her who was controlling the movements; it was baby Adele. Or Adeline. Whatever.

The person laughed. Definitely male and he said something to Rebecca in a language she didn't understand. She felt Rebecca's long hair tickle her face and the smell of rose perfume, this time stronger. They were _kissing. Kissing._ Was Rebecca Adeline's mother, then?

But no. Where was she going? Despite herself, baby Adeline started to cry and squirm in her father's arms. _Stop it,_ she told the baby, _stop it. You're father's cheating on your mother with your housekeeper babysitter whatever._

Baby Adeline didn't know this and she continued crying even as Rebecca left, shutting the door behind him. Her father continued to comfort her, murmuring to her in a language that wasn't English. She was helpless, and soon cooing happily, evidently amused by her father.

"Adeline, you look so much like your mother, do you know that?" He was suddenly saying and for a moment, the sunlight like haze on his face disappeared. Dark black eyes regarded her, and shocks of the same blonde hair that covered her head covered the man's, glowing brightly in the sunlight.

She gasped, and suddenly she was snapped back to present day reality. She realized she was crouched on the floor and her mouth was open in a scream. There was barely any time for her to close her mouth before the door to the bedroom burst of its hinges and Jace was charging in, a seraph blade in his hands.

"Adele!" He shouted, coming straight for her. The seraph blade lowered as he carefully helped her, and she couldn't help it; she pressed her head to his shoulder and begun to sob softly. "Are you okay? Shh, I'm here, it's alright, it's alright…"

Behind him, Alec was regarding Brother Grigori with unmasked cold fury but it wasn't he who was shouting at the Brother; it was Isabelle and she was really worked up, her face screwed up in concentration as she was having a silent battle with him.

"I saw him…"

"Who?" Jace asked, and she felt him tense. She had a feeling that he knew who it was and was just waiting for her to say it.

"My father…" she said. The atmosphere in the room seemed to grow several degrees colder and she could feel Alec and Isabelle's gaze burning holes into the side of her head. It seemed that the argument with Brother Grigori had ended. "He looks...like me."

"You look more like your mother," Jace said, his voice a little harsh. "Clary."

"The hair…"

"The hair is one part of it. It's not like you have his _eyes."_

"His eyes?" She repeated blankly, before remembering-the dark eyes, warm but empty. "Oh."

"Brother Grigori, I think it's best if we continue our discussion downstairs," she heard Isabelle say. There was no emotion to the request; just plain, cold truth. Brother Grigori didn't say anything, just moved past Alec and Isabelle to the door. His long cloak trailed behind him and as he moved out the door, Alec followed him. Isabelle lingered a moment longer, looking between Adele and Jace.

"He may be your father, Adele," she said, "but we're your family."

Then she was gone too. For the first time in years, it felt uncomfortable to be sitting in the same room as Jace. And with the discomfort came shame, that the person who had practically raised her and been through so much with her was now the same person she couldn't stand to be in the same room with.

"You never told me this," she said.

"Never told you what?"

"About my father. About what he was like. You know, don't you?"

She expected him to admit it. To say that he did, but his reaction wasn't what she expected. She saw him cross his arms. "Does it matter if I know him or not?" he asked coldly.

"Yes," she replied, turning to him. His gaze was like steel on her own but she wasn't going to back down so easily. "You lied to me."

" _I_ lied to you?" He looked taken aback, like he wasn't believing what she was saying.

"Yes. You never told me anything about my father. In fact, you didn't say much about my mother either. All I know was that she looked sort of like me and she was brave and stubborn. But I don't know her. Not really."

"Alright," he said, running a hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was. "What do you want to know?"

She turned away. "It won't make a difference now. I hate you."

He didn't say anything, but she could feel his breath catch. This was not the reaction she wanted or was expecting. She wanted to get a rise out of him, like the one time she had done when she was six. She wasn't sure exactly what she had done at the time but it had involved something important, spilled juice, and ended with him screaming at her. Even at the age of six, she had remembered the look in his eyes-like he was so tempted to hurt her. She would never forget that look, and she would never forget the look that followed afterwards-the regret, the pain as he had turned and stormed away to his bedroom. He hadn't come out for dinner, much to Isabelle's worry and the next morning, he had acted breezy and distant, putting Adele at a distance. She wanted that to happen now, for him to feel something, to show some kind of reaction but she saw the way his jaw set and she knew that today was not her day.

"Did you hear me? I hate you," Adele repeated, even louder.

"I heard you the first time just fine," he replied, and she felt smug with the knowledge that his voice was close to snapping. "And I suppose you hate Isabelle, too? And Alec? And Simon and Magnus?"

"Yes," but she said it with hesitation. Could she really hate them? They weren't the ones that had lied to her, right? But no. They were the ones who had sided with Jace, choosing to keep her in the dark all these years. She nodded her head before she could feel her resolve slipping away.

He turned away from her, striding over to the door and like a lost kitten, she followed him. Adele hated how she was so needy and clingy; didn't she have a mind of her own? Why did she have to follow him around, waiting for him to give her instructions?

"Say something," Adele grabbed his sleeve, trying to stop him for leaving but he yanked it out of her grip. "Say something, damn it!"

"Language, Adele," he replied, keeping his tone mild even as he walked towards the stairs. Frustrated, she grabbed his entire arm, yanking him back towards her.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" She half screamed, half demanded.

"What do you want me to say? According to you, you hate me. What should I say in response to this?"

The temptation to tell him that she didn't hate him was too great. She _did_ hate him. She was sure of it. But did she really? How could someone tell hate from love? It didn't matter now; she shook her head. He was a liar and most importantly, he _wasn't her real father._

"You're not my real father," she said, tightening her grip on his arm. His skin was warm and comforting but she chose to ignore this. Nothing about him comforted her now, not with the knowledge she was now getting to know.

"And you didn't know this before?"

Adele reached out to slap him but he grabbed her wrist. "Adele," he warned, his voice low.

"If you had told me that I looked like my father I would have-"

"You don't look anything like Sebastian," he cut her off. "You have Clary's eyes, her face and you look nothing like that bastard."

She tore her wrist out of his grip. "Don't call him that!"

"What? A bastard?" Jace let out a harsh laugh. "If only you knew what he did-"

"I hate you!" She screamed again, this time louder. Adele turned around, and there was Simon and Isabelle on the stairs. Simon was looking at Jace but Isabelle's gaze was fixed firmly on her. Adele realized she had tears on her face. She wiped them away hurriedly.

"What are you looking at?" She demanded. Simon opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if having second thoughts. Without waiting for a reply from any of the others, she turned around, going back to her room.

~:~


	6. Chapter 6

They were discussing her.

She sat, alone, sullen and angry in her room. The burning desire to eavesdrop on Jace and the others was too great but she knew that she was on thin ice right now. Honestly, she didn't know why she was so worked up over the issue. Maybe it was because she wanted a reason to be mad at them. She couldn't say that she had been exactly happy with him; he had yelled at her, and even if she had deserved it, she wasn't a naughty child any longer. She was nearly sixteen, about the same age as when her parents had first met. Shouldn't be entitled to a little freedom? Or maybe the ability to think for herself? They always made decisions as if she was incapable of making them for herself. Well, that all ended today.

Silently, Adele got up. She walked to the door and leaned against it, straining her ears for any conversation. Nothing. Not even the slightest of sounds. Someone must have placed a rune on her door to prevent her from listening. Angrily, she pounded a fist at the door. She kicked it too, for good measures, as if that would do anything. She wanted to take her anger out on the door, but her foot was throbbing dully and she had a feeling that she would only end up breaking something if she continued. Twisting the knob, she pushed at the door but she realized that the knob wasn't moving. Numbly, she removed her hand, shocked. For the first time in her life, they had locked her in. They had actually locked her inside her room.

She deserved it. She definitely deserved it. Adele turned away, to the window. She walked over, placing a hand against the glass. It was supposed to be cold but she felt nothing except the glass. She traced a path to the latch of the window, pulling then opening the window. She felt a breeze move past her legs but she was already climbing up onto the sill. For a moment, she considered bringing her shoes but they were downstairs, by the hall closet.

No. She made up her mind, looking down. Her bedroom was on the second floor but it was still a long way down. No matter how angry she was, there was no way she was going to jump down. She wasn't that suicidal.

Carefully, she leaned down, gripping the window sill. Her fingers tightened on the thin white ledge and she let herself go.

A sharp sting shot through her arms as she hung there in the air. It felt like her shoulders were being pulled from the socket. She gasped, gritting her teeth to the pain. Looking for another foothold, or arm hold, she quickly found one in a odd brick sticking out from the rest of the house. With one hand, she let go and with the other, she latched onto the brick and the pain in her hands increased. She was hanging down from the side of the house and her hands scrambled for something to grab.

There was another foothold a little way down. She steadied herself, then took a small jump downwards. Her foot caught on the foothold and she flattened herself against the side of the house. Glancing down, Adele saw she was maybe five feet of the ground. If she jumped now, she would save herself a heart attack but then grant herself a possible trip to the emergency room. Jace could jump from forty feet down and land on his feet as gracefully as a cat. She seemed to have no such luck.

Adele decided to take her chances. Taking a deep breath, she leaped…

And landed unceremoniously onto the ground. Flashing white pain was shooting up and down her legs, and she saw black spots dancing in her eyes. She was sure that the others must have heard her (how could they not?) but seconds and then minutes passed and she was still lying on the ground. She rolled over, so her stomach wasn't pressing into the hard, uncomfortable ground. She let out as soft exhale of breath, watching as a puff of white, cloud like smoke escaped her nose. The pain in her legs was almost too much; it was only five feet, she wanted to scream but even her throat seemed to not be working anymore.

Adele forced herself to sit up, and the world seemed to go all black for a moment. Unsteadily, she tried getting to her feet but she didn't trust herself very much.

"Ugh," she groaned as a shooting pain travelled up her feet once more. She tried straightening up, maybe to get to the side of the house so she wouldn't fall over but it was too late; her legs buckled underneath and for the second time that day, she blacked out.

~:~

Ash watched all this from the safety of the trees. She was amusing, he thought, but sadly, she was as stupid as other mortals.

He glanced towards the house, then back at the girl. Adeline. He wasn't sure why Jonathan was so interested in her. She was another Shadowhunter, and one of the last blood relations to the Morgenstern Line. Other then that…

With one last glance at the house, he cautiously stepped across the boundary. His foot touched the black line, now faintly imprinted in the grass. There was no reaction. The other foot soon followed suit. He didn't know why he was so relieved. The Vetis demon from last night had taken care of the boundary, destroying it before being banished by the Shadowhunters. Luckily, they hadn't yet noticed that the boundary had fallen or the fact that it needed to be recast. All which worked in his favor.

He pulled the stele out of his pocket. It wasn't his; it was Jonathan's, second handed and a fifteen birthday present to him. He supposed he should be lucky he got anything at all.

The girl lay crumpled on the ground and even as he got closer to her, she was just like Jonathan described. A light smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks, a small nose, angular face, and the same light blond hair as him and Jonathan, except hers was straight and his had a mild curl to it, just enough that it was a pain to brush it.

"Sorry, little sister," he muttered, and he pulled the stele and drew a rune on her hand. _Invisibility._ She shifted, muttering and her eyebrows screwed up. He finished and the new rune blazed brightly against her pale skin and there was a slight shimmer. He leaned down, picking her up. She wasn't exactly light and he had to carefully balance her in one hand while he tucked the stele away in his pocket. She snorted, muttering and he froze in shock when she put an arm around his neck. He had no time to think of this, however, as he moved back to the cover of the trees.

It would be a long way to carry her but there was no other option. He had parked the pick up truck a mile down the road, near an old farmer's market to avoid drawing suspicion to himself. The choice had proved regrettable with the fact that his arms would be aching by the time he was back there.

The forest was quiet as he made his way through the undergrowth, branches cracking underneath his boots and branches catching on the sleeves of his shirt. For the most part, he had tried to protect Adeline; Jonathan had given him specific instructions and he wasn't going to dare to disobey and invoke his wrath. Ash paused, mostly for a break and reprieve from the ache in his arms, but also because Adeline had a scratch on her head. Stretching from her forehead to her eyebrows, it wasn't that bad but there was a lot of blood.

"By the Angel…" he said, pulling out his stele. He drew a quick iratze rune on the back of her hand and the skin knitted itself closed. Her eyelids started to flutter and her arm twitched as she started waking up. Quickly, he drew a second rune, this time on the skin of her palm and her eyelids smoothed out again and she let out a breathy sigh. Glancing up at the sun, he knew he only had a few hours before Jonathan was expecting him again. A few hours to get to the City, into Club La Amour and a portal out to the house. All to ensure that there was no chance of being followed. Club La Amour was famous for having a mix of visitors inhabit it, from faeries, demons and downworlders. Even if they caught his scent, it would easily be lost in the chaos of the place. Should they try to follow him. He didn't really think they were _that_ stupid.

Sighing, he grabbed Adeline's arms, hauling her of the ground once more before settling her in his arms.

Sometimes he really hated Jonathan's overly elaborate plans.

~:~

Adele woke up a few hours later in the back of a pick up truck with her wrists behind her back and her legs tied up. She tried opening her mouth, to scream, presumably but there was something stuffed in there.

"Mmmm!" She tried to say something, struggling to snap the ropes that held her captive. It was no use; even with her Shadowhunter strength, the ropes were solid and unbudging.

"Ah, your awake," a bored voice said from up front. She snapped her head, trying to see the person but the way she was tied up didn't allow it. "Good. I was starting to think you were dead."

Sorry to disappoint you, she thought sarcastically as she twisted her body. Kicking out her legs, she started pounding her feet against the back of the driver's seat. She had no idea what she was trying to earn from this except that she knew that it would annoy the hell out of the driver.

Sure enough, a moment later, the driver twisted around. It was a boy, with light hair and a unhappy expression on his face. He looked young but not young enough to not have a license; she knew this much from Simon because he was always complaining about how the mundanes thought he was too young to be getting one and so he couldn't drive legally.

"Quiet, you," he said.

Adele glared back to him, trying to not let any of the fear pounding in her heart leak onto her facial expression. He was going to do something to her. Isabelle had always warned her about this, telling horror stories about what could happen to girls that were captured in the clutches of these kinds of men. Mostly nabbers, she had explained, that hung out in bars inhabited by the Nephilim. A Shadowhunter girl could go for as much as one hundred thousand dollars. Her mind was racing by now, spinning out the possibilities. He was a mundane; she was a Shadowhunter. If it came down to it, she could easily take him on. With a groan of disappointment, she realized she didn't have her stele nor her seraph on her. Or if she had, she must have dropped it somewhere. Shit. Well, that was what close combat was for anyways, right?

They drove for some miles in silence. She kept quiet, trying to listen to any noises that might alert her to where she was. The road wasn't quiet enough for them to still be in the country but not loud enough for them to be in the city. Somewhere in the middle then?

The boy made no move to initiate conversation between the two of them. Sitting up, balancing on the backs of her hand, she could only see the back of his head and from the angel where she was sitting, something dark on his finger. A ring. He jerked the wheel to the right and she was flung back down onto the seat but not before she managed to see an edge of his sleeve slide up, revealing dark, spiralling tattoos.

Shadowhunter. Her eyes widened as she realized that the situation had somehow gotten trickier.

"Mmm!" She protested, kicking out with her feet again. The boy chose to ignore her. "Mmm, mmm!"

The boy muttered a low curse as she aimed a kick at his arm. It barely glanced off, but she saw his jaw tighten. Good. She slid her body even lower, balancing precariously on the seat and kicked out again. This kick managed to hit him in the shoulder.

A moment passed, like a heartbeat, in silence and he was turning the truck. Stopping, she saw him open the door and get out. Her heart was racing and she could hear the pound in her ears.

The door opened and she was staring up at him.

"Mind telling me why your kicking my seat like some kind of toddler?" He asked, annoyance clear on his pretty features. She stared. His features were delicate, not square or robust and he had light blonde hair. His eyebrows were much darker then his hair but it did nothing to mar his looks; even with his eyebrows creased in an annoyed manner, he looked like the sort of boy Jace and Simon had always told her to stay away from and Isabelle would secretly swoon over.

She tried to say something but the gag blocked her from doing so. Rolling his eyes and looking even more annoyed than before, he leaned over, pulling it out of her mouth. Adele gasped for air.

"You're a Shadowhunter," she said.

The boy raised both eyebrows. "So?" He said, not looking very impressed. "It's not really a secret."

"Why are you kidnapping me? I'm not...I don't think I could...I kick and I bite, so…" she couldn't bring herself to say what was on her mind and underneath the annoyed expression, there was some amusement in the boy's eyes.

"Relax," he said, "I'm not here to do that. I take your word about the kicking and biting, though, so you don't have to demonstrate."

Her cheeks flushed but she refused to back down. "Then why? Is it because of Jace or Simon? Isabelle? Alec? If you want Magnus, I hear he's giving discounts to people in the New York area-"

"I'm not here for them either," like a mask shifting into place, a cold look graced the boy's face. He must be part faerie, she thought. His ears were more pointed then the average human's and his eyes were a strange bright green. "I'm here for you."

"But-"

"Now shut up," he pulled the gag back out and she shook her head, trying to back away. "We're already late, just open your mouth, come on…"

Adele clamped her mouth shut but the boy leaned over, grabbing her jaw. She tried to bite his finger but he somehow managed to insert his fingers into her mouth, forcing her jaw to remain open as he stuffed the gag back in. She made a half muffled scream but he removed his fingers and finished sliding the gag into place. Satisfied with his handiwork, he got back out, slammed the door shut and took his spot in the driver's seat.

Adele knew if she kicked his seat again, something bad would happen. The boy had a temper that could rival Jace's. She sighed, leaning back and closing her eyes. There wasn't much she could do now. Once the truck stopped, she would plan her escape.

~:~

"Wake up!" A harsh hand on her shoulder. Adele blinked her eyes opened. For a minute, she was confused. Where was she? She looked up and she could see the boy untying her bound feet, one side of his hair falling in his eyes. He finished, tossing the ropes aside and moved up, towards her hands. She tensed as he reached out for her, grabbing her by the shoulders and flipping her so she was on her stomach. The gag was still in her mouth.

She felt the rope around her wrists slip away and being tossed.

"Get up," he said. Slowly, she pushed herself up. The boy was unarmed, watching her wearily with those strange green eyes of his. Flexing her wrists and moving her shoulders, she tried to get feeling back into them.

"We're going into a club," the boy explained, "so you need to be on your best behavior. Understand?"

Her throat tightened. "What kind of club?"

Again, he looked at her and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw amusement on his face. "Not the kind of club your thinking about, Adeline,"

"What's with the stupid nickname? My name's Adele."

Again, he looked at her, this time his expression significantly more sober. "Not anymore," he said and she got a heavy feeling in her stomach, like sinking stones. Adeline. The name her father had called her. How would this boy know it?

Adele got out of the truck. Her wrists were raw red, some of the skin peeling back to reveal blood underneath, where the ropes had cut into them and the boy seemed to notice this too. He pulled something out of his pocket and she realized with a jolt of excitement that it was an stele.

"Your wrists," he said, his tone clipped. She held them out to him and he started drawing a rune on the skin of her palm. Biting her tongue to mask the pain, she jerked her wrist away as he finished.

"Thanks," she said. He didn't say anything, just turned away. Perfect.

She smashed into him, throwing him to the ground. He was probably much heavier then her but she had the element of surprise. Coupled with her height, she had the time to grab the stele out of his hand. He quickly recovered, twisting around so she was straddling his waist.

She threw the stele out of his reach. Her hands were around his throat in a matter of moments. Sickened, she started applying pressure. Jace had taught her the skill for "just in case" situations but she had honestly hoped to the Angel that she would never have to use it.

Adele applied more pressure and she felt him slacken. She let go. Big mistake. She had forgotten one of the biggest rules Jace had ever told her. "Never stop fighting until you're sure it's dead," he had said. The boy quickly grabbed her arm, twisting her to the side and she was forced to slide of him or risk getting her arm broken. He rolled over, onto her.

"Let go of me!" She demanded, raising a fist to punch him straight in the eye. He grabbed her wrist, forcing it to the side of her head. She immediately drew back her knee, punching him in the groin and while he was distracted, she yanked her wrist out of his grasp.

Getting up, she lunged for the stele on the ground a few feet away but a hand was grabbing her leg, pulling her back.

"Let go of me!"

"You little-" he swore. She pulled her leg free, running for the stele. She leant down to pick it up and suddenly, a hand was around her waist, pulling her back.

"No!" She screamed and a hand was around her mouth in an instance, shutting her up. She felt a body, warm and solid, pull her backwards. She knew where they were going but she resisted all the same. "Please-"

Something sharp pricked her arm. She felt her senses go drowsy. She tried pulling but the strength was fast sapping out of her body. She felt the arms around her let go and she turned around, presumably to punch the person across the jaw but instead, when she turned his features were blurry. She reached for him and he caught her. Warm arms...sleep...rest…

~:~

 **A/N: I would like to thank 24 for following this story! Thanks for the support guys! I really appreciate it.**

 **Anyways, don't forget to review and tell me what you think of the story.**

 **Happy Writing!**

 **-Amber**


	7. Chapter 7

Club La Amour was loud and noisy, filled with drunken faeries and young couples grinding against each other to the music. Ash made his way to the back of the bar, where he knew a friend of his father's would be able to provide much help when it came to the teenage girl knocked out in his truck.

"Pasha?" He asked and the bartender gave him a curt nod. Drumming his hands on the cool bar top, he let his eyes wander over the people on the floor, pausing to watch a group of obviously drunk college girls dancing and giggling. Their boyfriends were nowhere in sight or maybe they didn't have any; he highly doubted, this however. One of them, a pretty brunette, caught his eye and waved him over. A laugh graced her face and he could almost smell the mundane smell on her-sickly sweet, like overripe fruit. It filled his senses and he knew if he didn't cut this down quickly, things could get messy very fast.

"No," he mouthed, shaking his head and turning away. He thought he saw a hurt look flash across the girl's face but his attention had wandered elsewhere to some dark corners of his mind. The bartender from before returned, this time with someone in tow.

"Pasha," the person extended a hand and he took it although he didn't exactly like the contact. Long nails dug into the skin of his palm and wrist. "You're Ash? You look so much like Jonathan."

"Thank you," he murmured, although he really didn't need reminding-he was his father's son, as far as looks went. Looking in the mirror was like looking at a picture of Jonathan, except someone had colored his eyes the wrong color and the Sometimes he wished that he had more of his mother on him, but if he was that lucky it would be almost a miracle.

"Jonathan told me your bringing someone. A girlfriend?" Pasha grinned, although the grin was more sharp then genuine. She had a predatory look to her, from the sharply pointed teeth to the ice blue eyes that watched him like he was some nice prey. Exactly Jonathan's type, he thought as he nodded.

"She's in my truck. She doesn't like loud noises. I thought I might bring her in through the back."

"Of course. If you'll come with me."

"Lead the way."

Ash followed Pasha through the back storage rooms to a narrow stairwell. It was dark and musty there, the only light coming from the emergency door at the bottom. At one point, Pasha somehow managed to slip behind him and he had to turn himself half sideways at times just to make sure she wasn't thinking about trying to get a feel on him. While his father enjoyed the female attention, he didn't like it so much. At one point, he had even started to believe he was gay or something but had cut the thought immediately-Jonathan wouldn't like something like that. He was his father's son and someday, he would be his father's successor as well. Might as well start learning how to act like him now.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty one." Ash didn't feel the need to elaborate.

"Is she really your girlfriend?"

"Does it matter?"

"She's not," Pasha sounded almost thoughtful. "A handsome young man like you...I would have expected you to be married already."

"I think I'm a little too young for that," he mustered politely though he was starting to feel irritated with her needless meddling.

"You're never too young to be married. My own daughter is seventeen, looking for suitors. Her name is-"

"We're here," he pushed the door open, into the dark alley beyond. Pasha fell silent behind him but he chose to ignore this; he was here to get Adeline to Jonathan, not listen to marriage proposals from one of Jonathan's old friends, no matter her loyalty. If Jonathan really wanted him to married, he could arrange it directly. "I'll bring her here, alright?"

"Fine," said Pasha and there was bitterness in her voice. Ash sighed, forcing himself to fall back on his diplomacy skills. He wasn't going to like this but it had to be done if he wanted to get Adeline into the club.

"You're daughters name is Nishata, right? Jonathan's mentioned her a lot of times."

Pasha seemed to perk up at this. Got you. It wasn't exactly a lie either; Jonathan had mentioned her a lot but mostly it was to comment on how she was turning out to be just like her mother-a lying, sneaking gold digger. Ash chose to go Switzerland to this.

He walked down the alleyway to where he had parked the truck-a dark shadowy part of the street. Clicking the keys, he pulled open the back doors to where Adeline lay curled on the seat. She was drooling, her hair a wild halo of pale gold fanned around her head. He grabbed her, pulling her out and balancing her against him. As he had suspected, she was warm, too warm to be able to be touched by normal mundanes and Shadowhunters. He was lucky that he had cast a rune on his arm, the rune of cooling or he'd have already fried his body by now. Grunting, he closed the truck and picked her up, bridal style.

"That's her?" Pasha's eyes, like frigid ice, regarded her cooly. "Not as pretty as I thought…"

"She's not supposed to be," he replied, breezily. "Her looks are irrelevant. It's what's in her blood that counts."

Pasha's eyes widened as she made the connection between her and Ash. It was almost amusing to see her eyes dart back and forth between the two of them-from Adeline's hair to his own, then the look over as she was trying to find more ways to tie them together. "A Morgenstern-?"

"Yes. And she's waking up. So we need to get inside."

Pasha was silent the entire way back. Adeline's head was thrown back, exposing a nick on her throat. A knife wound? He could see the binding marks of a Shadowhunter on the column of her pale throat, trailing down into her shirt with more marks like curling tendrils wrapped around her wrists and hands. He agreed with Pasha-she wasn't pretty in the conventional way but her features were binding, in a way. If he had seen her as a stranger passing by on the street, he doubted he could ever forget her.

"Where's the portal?" He asked.

"In here," and she was leading him down a darkened hallway to a section marked of as VIP. The security guards moved to let them through, one of them sending a questioning look at Adeline.

"She's had too much to drink," Ash said, putting on a polite smile and sympathetic expression. It worked; the guard's expression softened. This was one of the gifts he had inherited from his mother; the ability to tell half truths and convince people to believe him. The skill was enhanced more by his father's training-the lying, the acting, convincing people to see to it his way.

Inside the VIP area, there were rooms, each marked with names and locked doors. Adeline was starting to get too heavy for him to hold but luckily Pasha had stopped at a closed door.

ASH M. the sign read. With one hand, he grabbed the key in his pocket, the one Jonathan had given him and put it in the lock. The door turned and he was greeted by a suite room inside, typical to the other rooms in the hallway.

"Thank you."

Pasha nodded, then hesitated. "If your interested in getting married, just-"

"You'll be the first I'll call," he sighed, forcing himself to keep his tone amiable and agreeable. "I'll tell Jonathan."

Pasha grinned, obviously pleased. "You know, now that I can see her better, she's really not _that_ bad looking,"

"Thanks," he said, although he wasn't sure why. He waited until she was gone before entering the suite. Dumping Adeline on the bed, he pulled out his cellphone. Jonathan had warned him he was in a meeting and to not call him so he texted him instead.

 **I found her.**

The reply came back mere seconds later.

 **Good job.**

The praise was rare and he stared at the phone for a few more moments before concluding Jonathan must have been drunk again. He threw the phone on the bed, next to Adeline's head before pulling the stele out of his pocket.

The iratze rune from earlier had not yet faded away yet. He checked the other hand, but it had the typical voyance rune all Shadowhunters received upon their twelfth birthday. He stared at it, a little surprised. His earlier presumptions were that Adeline led a sheltered life, away from the world of Shadowhunters and the Clave but it seemed the opposite was true. The runes marking her body, combined with the silvery white scars that traced her skin like old paper cuts...he turned away, not letting the thought formulate.

He pulled the lower hem of her shirt up. Her stomach was bare and unexposed. Dragging the stele across the skin, he traced the rune. _Awaken._ Her eyelids were starting to flutter as she regained consciousness but he wasn't finished; he drew another rune next to the previous, pressing down harder this time. Her eyes flew open, wide in surprise as she stared down at her wrists. He yanked her shirt down, surveying his work with a vaguely satisfied feeling of satisfaction.

"What did you do for me?" She managed to croak out, her eyes still on her wrist. Two circles of burning fire bound them together, linked together with a third smaller ring in between. She yanked, trying to get the binds to loosen but they didn't work.

"Binding runes," he explained, and made no further move to elaborate.

"Why?"

"So you won't escape, obviously,"

"I figured that," she snapped, "but if you think you can try and even lay a hand on me, I'll bite you."

 _Bite me?_ This must be Isabelle's influence. Jonathan had mentioned the dark haired girl with a smile almost similar to fondness and amusement.

"Don't worry," he said, "I won't go anywhere near you. And biting me isn't a good idea either. My blood is poisonous."

Adeline's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he moved across the room, to the bare patch of wall between the door and bathroom. He started tracing a stele across the wall, concentrating on getting it right. When he stepped back to survey his handiwork he nearly bumped into someone.  
"If your thinking about popping my head of, I must disappoint you; I don't think you could get your leg high enough to do that," he said, quietly.

"Don't worry; you're not worth the torn ligament and pulled muscles." Her eyes were fixated on something, his neck, he realized a moment later.

"What?"

"Your neck," she replied and he realized what she must have been staring at.

"Knife accident when I was twelve," he said matter of factly. "Nothing serious."

"Nothing _serious?"_ She asked, a little incredulously.

He shrugged. "I was playing around with one of Jonathan's knives and I cut myself."

"Who's Jonathan?"

"You'll see," he replied, closing the discussion to further questions. "Stand back."

She moved back. The portal started to open up, and he grabbed her wrist. She looked up at him, a bit startled. It was interesting to note that her eyes were a paler green then his and while his had flecks of bright blue, hers were pure green, nothing but green.

"We're going through,"

" _We?"_ She repeated.

"To meet someone."

"Jonathan?"

He nodded, taking a step towards the portal with her in tow. She didn't try to struggle, which was great; he was almost worried he'd have to drag her through the portal. There was a rush of air and the feeling of being thrown sideways and suddenly they were standing in a room so familiar to Ash that he could recognize it simply by scent. The shelves of books and long hard mahogany tables, polished to a fine gleam. The windows were drawn shut, the marron drapes pulled shut and one of the reading lamps was on and he saw the half finished book he had been reading earlier, The Flowers of Evil. As usual, he had neglected to put any book mark in it and the pages had snapped shut but he couldn't bring himself to even be annoyed.

"Where are we?" He heard Adeline ask. She was clenching his wrist tightly, tight enough to cut the blood flow of to his hands. His gaze lingered there and she got the hint; letting go, she turned away.

"Home," he realized he was grinning. "Come on, we have some time before Jonathan comes back. I'll show you around.

~:~

 **A/N: Alright so several things to say. First of all, for some reason, the shout out I wanted to give last chapter had the name cut of so I'll say it again-thank you to juliasoda24 for following this story! Your support means a lot to me. Also, thanks to the guest reviewer who let the wonderful comment on my story! I really appreciate it :)**

 **Several more announcements to make:**

 **-To those of you who like to get in the technical aspect of it, I know that the binding rune only appears in the movies but for the purpose of the story I used it because it seemed cool (okay that was a weak excuse but what can I say?)**

 **-To answer any questions, yes, Ash and Adele are technically half brother and sister. They have some similarities but they don't look completely alike; I'd say their most distinguishing feature is the same pale blond hair they got from Jonathan.**

 **-Third and finally, yes, Jonathan and Sebastian are the same people. In this story, we're going by the name Jonathan :)**

 **Thanks for reading this story and remember to review and tell me what you think!**

 **Happy Writing!**

 **-Amber**


	8. Chapter 8

"Where is she?!" The enraged yell came from downstairs and the sound of chairs being overturned and knocked over could clearly be heard. "Who took her?!"

Isabelle was too busy tearing her hair out in near frustration to answer. She was crouched down next to the bed that Adele had only been inhabiting a few hours ago. There were no signs of struggle, no indication that there had been an intruder who had forcibly dragged Adele from her bed. The window was open which provided more clues and there was a single strand of pale gold hair stuck to it which Simon had taken in an attempt to see if he could track the scent. The dreaded conclusion had to be made-Adele had gone in her own free will. But why?

"Any luck?" It was Alec, entering the room. Like Jace, he had been initially panicked to discover the absence of Adele but unlike Jace, he hid it well. His large, clear blue eyes regarded Isabelle curiously, from where she was on the floor. "I don't think she's hiding underneath the bed, Isabelle,"

"Obviously," she replied back, her tone scathing. She got up, brushing some of the dust of her hands before turning to face the open window again. She tapped the sill with a finger. "What do you think of this?"

Alec came closer. The air from the window was cold and biting but Jace had given them strict orders not to close it. "This?" He said. "The window's open. She must have jumped out."

"Not jumped. _Climbed."_

He shrugged. "We can't rule out the conclusion that she jumped. What she was planning to do is completely beyond me."

A cold chill went through Isabelle. "You don't think she was planning to run away, do you?"

"No. Of course not. Why would she?"

"Because of what happened earlier. With Jace." At Alec's black look, she sighed, exasperated. Idiot older brothers. He had no clue what was going on. "She found out about her father!"

As she had predicted, his expression darkened. " _Sebastian?"_

"Him."

"That makes no sense, Adele wouldn't...Jace wouldn't have…" Alec was shaking his head, clearly in denial. Isabelle walked towards the door, already pulling out her cellphone. She dialed a number, putting the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" It was Simon.

"Did you find anything yet?"

"Yes," he said, a little grimly and her heart skipped a beat as she waited. "Blood."

Glancing back at Alec, she found his eyes trained on her. Carefully, she morphed her features into a mask of coolness.

"How much?" She asked.

"Not a lot. Just a tiny bit, maybe from a finger prick. It was on Madison Heights road, near Bedlam."

Letting out a sigh of relief, she gave Alec a small thumbs up to reassure him Adele wasn't dead. "Anything else?"

"I tracked the scent for as long as I could," and there was now a grim undertone to his voice, "they've headed to the city."

"The _city?"_

Alec's head snapped up as he made his way to where Isabelle stood. He yanked the phone from her grasp, turning away at Isabelle's shout of protest. "The _city?"_ He repeated. "How'd they get to the city so quickly?"

"I don't know. Maybe car, or-" he didn't get to hear the rest of the sentence because Isabelle was already grabbing the phone back.

"As I was saying Simon, the city? Why would they go the city?"

"Beats me. I think they're trying to lose scent. I lost it about a mile into the city."

Isabelle swore low underneath her breath. "Thanks, Simon. I think Alec wants to speak to you now." She shoved the phone in her brother's general direction and startled, he accepted it. Not bothering to wait to see if he would actually put the phone to his ear or not, she raced down the hallway and down the flight of stairs.

"Jace!" She shouted. The living room was a mess, with sofa's overturned and missed lint and stray candy wrappers that had been lazily shoved underneath, making its first grand appearance in years. The maker of the mess himself was nowhere to be seen but she heard crashing noises from the kitchen.

"Jace!" She shouted again but this time it was in shock. If the living room was bad, the kitchen was a nightmare from hell. Pots and pans littered the floor and there was water leaking from somewhere, down onto the floor. Gingerly, she stepped around it and into the second kitchen which had fared slightly better but still not very well; a bag of open coffee beans littered the counter and tiled floor. Jace was crouched down on his knees, looking through the cutlery drawer.

"You really think she's hiding in there?"

"It's worth a try," he replied and she was surprised to hear the wild, almost frantic note in his voice. She watched as he dumped out spoons, knives and forks onto the floor and finally decided that it was time to interfere. Gently, she laid a hand across his shoulder blades and he looked up at her surprised.

"Jace…" she said softly, "it's alright."

His face seemed to fall a little bit before he turned away from her. "No, it's not going to be alright," his voice was a little muffled as he started grabbing more cutlery. Presumably to fling out. She grabbed his wrist.

" _Jace,"_ his name held more emphasize now. He glanced up, noting the urgency in her voice.

"Simon managed to track a scent."

"He did?" Jace stood up, a bit clumsily and she realized he had been drinking something. She could smell it on his breath. "Where?"

"Madison Heights, near-"

"We have to go there right now." Already, he was stepping around the mess on the floor, pulling the car keys on the hook near the doorway into his hands. Isabelle grabbed the back of his shirt, preventing him from leaving.

"Jace, we can't go right now,"

He turned to her, confusion visible on his face. Even at the age of thirty two, going onto thirty three, he still managed to look like he was in his twenties. His eyes, were however, past fifty and his mind belonged to someone who had been old enough to be in a major war of some sort. "Why not? We can gather clues-"

"You're drunk," she said grimly, trying to lead him away gently."Come on, we're getting you to bed-"

"I'm not drunk!" He snapped, yanking himself out of her grasp.

"Jace-"

"I'm not drunk, Isabelle, I'm looking for her!"

For a moment, she thought he would lash out at her. The potential seemed there in the way he held himself, tense and coiled. His golden eyes were blazing and there was a deep indent in his eyebrows. But then he relaxed. Dropping the car keys on the counter, he muttered something about women being difficult. Isabelle relaxed visibly

"We'll look for her in the morning," she said. "Simon's already out and I'll call Magnus and ask him to pay a visit to the City to see if he can gather some clues."

"Alright," Jace said, although he still looked unhappy by the prospect. "I miss New York."

That was a very odd thing to say, Isabelle thought but before she could confront him about it, the phone rang.

"I'll get it," she said, reaching over and plucking the phone from the wall. Jace made a disgruntled noise, already moving out of the kitchen. Glancing down at the number, she was suddenly glad that he had made the choice to leave.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Isabelle,"

"Jocelyn," Isabelle closed her eyes, leaning herself against the counter. "It's been a while."

"Yes," there was a pause. "Alec called me. There's been a situation?"

"Yes. Adele is missing."

Jocelyn cleared her throat. Behind her, Isabelle could hear water running, as if she were running a bath or washing dishes. "Have you told Maryse and Robert yet?"

"Not yet. They're on vacation in the Caribbean. They'll come back next week. Where's Luke?"

"Out," she replied, vaguely. That's very helpful, Isabelle thought sarcastically. "Where's Jace?"

"Not here," she lied, easily. Truth was, in Jace's current condition, it wouldn't be a good idea for him to talk to Jocelyn. He was already angry with her. With the amount of wine he had drunk, combined with his already loose tongue...she shuddered to think of some of the things he could say. "Is there something you need?"

Another pause, as if Jocelyn was really hesitating. Isabelle tapped her finger against the counter. The black and silver nail polish coating her hands was already starting to peel off. Adele and her were supposed to do their nails again. Now she was gone…

"Is there any way I can help?"

"Jocelyn…" it was her turn to be the hesitant one. "I don't think…"

"Me and Luke could notify the Institute. We can send Shadowhunters. Luke can talk to the lycanthropes. We can help. Jace would never have to know."

Isabelle wanted to say no. She should have said no. Jace wouldn't like this. And a small part of her didn't either. Jocelyn had been absent from Adele's life for almost sixteen years. Why was she so eager to come back now? But they needed all the help they could get and Jocelyn and Luke could provide the biggest help they might need…

"Alright," she finally said, "you can help. Jace shouldn't know and neither should anyone else. It's between us, alright?"

"It's a deal Isabelle. You sound so much like Maryse."

Isabelle refrained from saying that Adele sounded so much like Jocelyn and Clary. She was too tired to be bringing such arguments up, and anyways, she had gotten what she needed-information and the promise of help. It made her feel slightly better to know that their effort wasn't the only one used to find Adele. Yet…

"Why?" She finally asked.

"Why what?"

"Why, after all these years…"

There was more silence. It seemed that the silence between the two women lasted longer than their actual conversations. "Maybe I want to help. She is my...granddaughter after all."

"Now of all times?"

"Does it matter, as long as you're getting help?"

"It matters to me, Jocelyn," Isabelle replied, quietly. There was more silence and the phone line disconnected. Jocelyn had hung up. She put down the phone, slowly. Surveying the mess on the kitchen floor, and then the clock that hung on the kitchen wall, she wondered if she might be able to trick Alec into helping her. A silence had fallen on the house as it's inhabitants retired to their respective rooms. She had no clue where Jace was but she could only hope he had taken her advice. Alec? Probably talking to Magnus. Simon? Still looking for clues. That left her to clean up the mess in the kitchen.

And yet...something wasn't adding up. Why would Jocelyn be so interested in Adele now? There was something she wanted from Adele but Jocelyn hadn't even met her once. Isabelle was snapped out of her thoughts by something crashing to the floor. Startled, she turned around to notice that an entire set of china dishes, previously stacked neatly, had fallen to the floor.

 _Jace, you-_ she thought furiously, grabbing the broom to sweep up the mess. The kitchen now had a vague smell of coffee beans and the water that had been on the floor had now spread towards the entrance to the first kitchen. Grimacing, she picked up the broom, resisting the urge to find Jace and smack him upside the head with it.

Sweeping up the china and with her back turned to the window, there was no way she could have seen the figure standing in the front garden. Back turned, dressed in a loose pair of jeans and a white shirt, Jace pulled something out of his pocket. The stele in his left hand hovered briefly over his right hand. Closing his eyes for a very brief moment, he opened them again.

He knew where Adele had gone.

~:~

 **A/N: Special thanks to SpiritofaWolf for following the story! Thanks for the continued support!**

 **Okay so I decided that I should probably establish some sort of schedule when it comes to updating and stuff.**

 **Truth be told, I really don't know when I'll be able to update. I try to update every two days but sometimes, I'll be busy with something or another. So expect updates every two days to every week.**

 **My head kind of hurts when I'm writing this chapter and I'm running a fever so...that's all for now.**

 **Please review and don't forget to tell me what you think.**

 **Happy Writing!  
-Amber **


	9. Chapter 9

The boy's name turned out to be Ash. Despite being an asshole, he wasn't that bad. He didn't try anything so Adele figured he was harmless in that department. They toured the entire house, which really should have been called a mansion. Besides the library, there was the kitchen, about the size of her living room back at the house, and the living room, which was about three times the size of the kitchen.

"Whoa, it's...huge," she commented, her eyes widening. Jace and the others weren't poor. They were well off enough that she had never gone without anything she might want but this was a new level of rich she had only seen on TV with shows like "Keeping up with the Kardashians."

"Thanks," Ash looked at her as if he wasn't sure whether or not she was being sarcastic.

"I'm not being sarcastic,"

"I never said anything," he muttered. "Come on, I'll show you your bedroom-"

The doorbell rang, cutting him of. Ash froze, eyes widening.

"Jonathan," he said, more to himself then to Adele. She watched as he pulled the stele out of his pocket and moved towards the door. She followed him, partially because she didn't really have a choice and partially because she wanted to see who this Jonathan guy was. She had already come to the conclusion that Jonathan was a superior to Ash, but that didn't explain why they lived together. Was Ash Jonathan's body guard? The one to do Jonathan's dirty work? She didn't know, but it looked like she was about to find out.

"Ash?" The voice came from the direction of the living room. Ash had already gone to check it out, leaving Adele alone in the hall. She looked around, trying to find some sort of weapon that might be useful to her later on. There was a knife strung on the wall, but it was too high up for her to get it with her hands bound. Frustrated, she glanced the other way. There was a pair of keys strung on a hook and a small painting hanging on the wall. She grabbed the keys, tucking them into the palms of her hands. The keys could be a valuable weapon if Ash tried to try anything. Although he probably wouldn't. She frowned.

The voices were coming closer. She paused, considering her options. Ash was a Shadowhunter; that was clear from the marks on his skin. The question now was if Jonathan was also a Shadowhunter. If he was, the chances of her escaping had decreased drastically. She may have been good at combat but without her seraph or stele with her, and facing two Shadowhunters...she didn't like to think about the odds.

"Adeline," Ash was now behind her. She turned towards him. Even in the dim light of the hallway, she could make out Ash's figure. Behind him, a taller although slim figure came into view. From where she was standing, she could make out pale blonde hair and dark eyes that regarded her carefully. "Meet Jonathan."

Ash moved out of the way, letting the man called Jonathan get closer. Adele gasped. She knew this man. He was the man from the dream with Brother Grigori. Up close, he was more good looking then she had put him to be although he had gotten older. Grinning and with the same blonde hair on his head that covered hers. Dark eyes, pitch black in color. There was something wrong with him, thought Adele, but before she could pinpoint it, he was speaking.

"Adeline," he said, "do you remember me?"

She did, in fact. Memories. Fragments. Up closer, he smelled like something slightly sweet. Cherries.

"Father," she said, her voice shaking. She didn't know what else she was supposed to call him. Dad? Papa? Father seemed the most correct for a man like him.

"How are you?"

"Good. You?"

"I'm fine," a flash of white teeth as he smiled. Behind him, Ash was silent. It seemed her suspicions had been correct. He was Ash's superior in some way.

"You've met Ash?"

"Yes," Adele said, "charming guy."

Jonathan looked amused as he considered her. "So much like Jace…" he said, "but enough about him. How has he treated you?"

"Um, fine, I guess." She didn't know why he was so interested. Jace had regarded the mention of this man with pure taste. It seemed that the feeling ran mutual though she wasn't sure why.

"Are you hungry?"

"I guess," truth was, she was very hungry. She couldn't remember the last time she had something to eat. Ash seemed to stiffen up but when she looked at him, he didn't seem to notice.

"Ash?" Jonathan prompted. It felt weird to call him Father, even though he was, technically, her father. She blamed it on the fact that she never had bothered to call Jace 'dad' or Isabelle 'mom'. It made things weird. Besides, what would she have called Simon? Her second dad? She almost smiled at the thought.

Ash ducked his head. "The cook's made something," he said, "I'll go check."

Jonathan didn't say anything as Ash left. Adele watched the two men for a moment. She didn't know what to say. When she had first imagined meeting her father, she would never have thought it would be this awkward. What had she had imagined? She didn't know. A rosy long lost family reunion? Her father welcoming her with open arms? Although he seemed to be welcoming, there was nothing rosy about the reunion.

"You have a brother," Jonathan said. Adele's heart began to pound.

"Oh? Who?"

"Ash. He's your half brother."

Adele was shocked that she had a brother. It seemed rude to ask who the mother was so instead she asked, "How old is he?"

"Twenty one. You must be sixteen."

Adele nodded. Once more, Jonathan seemed amused. "When's your birthday?"

"December 19th," she said.

"October 13th," he replied. She stared at him, confused. "December 19th was when you were found by Jace. The day I died."

The words sent a jolt through Adele. "You died?" She said, her voice soft. Jace had never told her that. In fact, he had never told her when her actual birthday was. December 19th. October 13th. They had always celebrated her birthday on December 19th, right before Christmas. And if her father had died, how was he alive again? "But Jace said-"

"I suppose he told you that I wasn't?"

"He said you had been damned, back to hell…" _where you belong._ She didn't add this part, however.

"He was the one who had killed me."

Well, this is awkward, thought Adele, your adoptive father turns out to be the one to kill your father, who then adopts you but it turns out your father is alive after all. "But how are you still alive?" She asks.

Jonathan smiles, as if he's in on some sort of secret joke that she's not. Ash entered the room again. Now that Adele knew that they were siblings, she can't stop staring at him. She wanted to kick herself now but it did make sense. They had the same light blonde hair. If she looked hard enough, she could see the same mouth. While his face had the similar coolly arrogant, know it all expression that graced Jonathan's face, she couldn't imagine herself like that. Although she had been repeatedly told to wipe the smirk of her face, she had always blamed that on Jace's influence. What if it was a family thing? It seemed if it was. She snuck a glance at Ash but he wasn't even turned towards her.

"Dinner's ready," he said. Jonathan nodded.

"I'll join you in a bit. For now, take Adeline there," he smiled warmly at me. Ash grabbed my arm and shoved my ahead of him. "Carefully, Ash!"

"Alright, Jonathan," Ash muttered. His grip tightened on Adele's arm but at least he wasn't pushing her anymore. She noticed how he didn't call Jonathan 'dad'.

"And get those chains of her. She won't try to escape, will you, Adeline?"

"No," Adele shook her head. Jonathan turned to go and she snapped out of her reverie. What was wrong with her? Of course she was going to escape. She _had_ to escape. But a small doubtful part of her questioned whether she really needed to escape or not. This was her family. Shouldn't she be with them, instead of her adoptive one? The family that wasn't even related by blood.

Ash pulled his stele out of his pocket. Jonathan left the hallway, presumably to go get changed.

"Turn around," said Ash stiffly. Adele did, remembering to keep her fists closed around the keys. She held her breath as Ash pushed the sleeve of her shirt up, exposing the skin of her lower back. She felt a slight burning sensation and her shirt was yanked down again. The cuffs faded from her hands. Ash put the stele back in his pocket.

"Kitchen's this way," he said, jerking his head towards the general direction of the kitchen. He turned and she managed to quickly slip the key into the pockets of her shirt. She follows him into the kitchen, a large open island style. There's no one else to be seen except the both of them so the presumed chef had probably been long gone.

There's bowls of oriental style noodles. Adele ate hungrily, pausing occasionally to take sips of water. Ash ate more slowly and more controlled; he was reading a book of some sort, and seemed relatively relaxed.

"What are you reading?" She finally broke the silence. Ash looked up at her, pausing with a spoonful of noodles up to his mouth.

"The Flowers of Evil," he replied, for once not looking annoyed. "Have you read it?"

"No. Is it good?"

"It's in French."

"I know French."

Ash looked interested at this. " _Vraiment?"_

" _Oui,"_ she said, keeping her face serious, " _je parle francais."_

Ash looked like he wanted to say something else but stopped himself at the last moment. He shoveled in one last bite of noodles.

" _C'est interessant,"_ he picked up his plate and put it by the sink. She watched as he walked out of the kitchen with the book in hand, leaving her alone. She sighed, stabbing a fork into the mass of noodles on her plate. What was his problem?

~:~

Ash was finishing The Flowers of Evil when Adeline walked in his bedroom.

He stared at her. She had probably taken a bath because her hair was wet and she smelled faintly like bubblegum. He wrinkled his nose as she sat next to him.

"Do I really smell that bad?" She asked.

Ash rolled his eyes. "No," he said, "but you didn't strike me as the bubblegum body wash kind of person."

"It's the only body wash there is."

His lips curled but he didn't say anything else. Adeline fidgeted with the hem of the nightgown she was wearing.

"Nice clothes," he finally said, "where'd you get them? The 2000s?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Guess it runs in the family."

The old spunk was back. Ash didn't say anything, just turned back to the book. He made it through two pages before she was annoying him again.

"You do know we're siblings right?"

"Half siblings," he immediately corrected. Adeline frowned.

"You knew?"

"Of course I did. I thought you might figure it out but seems like you weren't as I bright as I thought,"

Adeline looked like she wanted to shove him. Ha! She could try. He rolled over onto his back, amused, his eyes trained on the book in his hands.

"We don't look that alike,"

"You look like your mother," Ash said, "and I look like my father-Jonathan."

Adeline gave him an odd look. He ignored her, turning the page.

"Well, goodnight," she finally said. "Are you going to bed?"

"No,"

"A night owl, huh?"

He waved the book at her vaguely. "I have to finish,"

Adeline nodded. She left the room. It occurred to him that he should probably go check on her but his stele and seraph were tucked safely away. With the added security on the house, there was no way she would be able to escape.

~:~

 **A/N: Sorry for the late update! I was busy with school and tests this week, plus I had to catch up on piano and I was sick with a cold/fever/cough/flu that wouldn't go away.**

 **Anyways, thanks to all the people who followed my story! So far, the people following my story are:**

 **Agent Kit Cat**

 **Bastille's Club**

 **777**

 **Loba-san**

 **SpiritofaWolf**

 **24**

 **rose3007**

 **Thank you so much for the continued support! I really appreciate it!**

 **Please remember to review and tell me what you think!**

 **Happy Writing!**

 **-Amber**


	10. Chapter 10

Contrary to popular belief, Adele was trying to escape.

What kind of father kidnaps his own daughter, she thought, just so he can meet her? Even though she didn't think going back to Jace and the others was the best idea either, it was still a better idea then staying here. If the stories were true, her father really was a murderer. A bastard, she remembered Jace had said. What kind of other crimes might he commit? Would he really harm her?

She wasn't going to wait to find out. Lying in the dark with the covers pulled up to her chin, she kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. The door had opened at around eleven and she had to force herself to breath naturally as she felt the eyes on her face. It was Jonathan. He had closed the door again, leaving her alone once more. Ash had not come by to check on her.

She waited until about midnight, the luminous digital clock in her room finally hitting the digit 12. When she opened the door to her room, trying the knob, she found that the door wasn't even locked. Wondering whether she should be suspicious or happy that the door wasn't locked, she crept out into the hallway, letting the door behind her close softly.

The chandeliers that were on the walls were dimly lit with flames that flickered as she moved past them. The house was eerily silent and to Adele, who had grown up in a household where the inhabitants sometimes couldn't get to bed until three in the morning, the silence of this house was now unnerving.

She knew Ash's room was down the hallway. When she got there, she noted that the lights weren't on. Either he was reading with a flashlight or he had gone to bed. She was betting on the latter, however. Pushing the door open slowly, she let her eyes adjust to the dark. Adele could make out his form in the blankets on his bed sheets, eyes closed, letting out soft whistles of breathing that proved he was asleep. His seraph would have to be nearby. Most Shadowhunters she knew slept with it nearby. Jace slept with it in his hands. She knew from firsthand experience that it was a bad idea to wake him up in the middle of the night. Ash, however, seemed to be holding nothing in his hands. The stele could be in the waistband of his pants but she doubted this. The seraph could be in the spot next to the mattress and bedframe and the stele could be in the drawer next to the bed.

She decided to find the stele first. It would prove the most useful to her if Ash did wake up and find her there. Stepping carefully, she moved closer to the bed. Up close, framed by the pillows and blankets, Ash looked peaceful and angelic. She was reminded of the paintings of angels that hung in the Institute. His soft and steady breathing barely stuttered even when she leaned over, reaching a hand for the drawer. The drawer slowly squeaked open and she reached a hand inside. Slowly, she felt around. The drawer was dusty and had clearly not been used for a long time because dust coated her fingers. Oh, by the name of the Angel. She was allergic to dust.

Adele turned her head away as she felt the sneeze building up in her nose. She tried to stuff it down. _Not now,_ she thought desperately. Stupid allergies. She managed to not sneeze but now Ash had tilted onto his side, so his head was facing hers. She held her breath for a moment, waiting to see if he would wake up but he didn't do anything. Carefully, Adele continued her investigation of the drawers again.

The first drawer had a lot of dust. The second had even more dust then the first. She could feel the itch in her nose and her hand was already starting to itch. Great. She was going to get hives. Well, she'd rather get hives then stay here, that was for sure. The third and last drawer finally produced something besides a promise for allergies, although it wasn't what she was looking for.

She picked up the journal, turning it over in her hands. Itching at her hands, she flipped it open to the first page. Glancing at Ash, she saw he was still asleep; was he drooling? It didn't matter. She didn't have much time and the sooner she got out of here, the better.

It was a journal of some sort. Opening the front cover, she saw a name written in cursive. Long and elegant.

 _Valentine Morgenstern,_ it read. Morgenstern. Her last name. But who was Valentine? Another one of her relatives? Some secret brother she wasn't aware of? Briefly, she considered the possibility that it might be Ash but she dismissed the idea quickly. There was no reason for him to lie to her. Was it Jonathan? She considered this longer. It might be. He looked like the sort of person to lie about his name. Those dark enigmatic eyes hid more secrets then they let on. She flipped to the next page, a cloud of dust rising in the air. She sniffed but didn't sneeze.

 _January 21st 1991,_

 _One cup Ithuriel's blood mixed in with her morning breakfast._

There was nothing else but that. Ithuriel's blood? She frowned. She knew, of course, who Ithuriel was; every Shadowhunter knew who he was. But what did the journal refer to when it said Ithuriel's blood? Angel blood was extremely rare and hard to come by. Jace had often said that, besides demon's blood, it was probably the hardest substance to come by on Earth.

She flipped the page.

 _January 25th 1991,_

 _The nightmares have disappeared. She slept the entire night now. Celine's boy is safe and adjusting nicely. As for Jonathan, he can only be described as strangely lacking in remorse-_

"Mother,"

Adele nearly dropped the book. Startled, she looked towards Ash but he was now lying on his chest with his arm draped across his head. Murmuring, he went back to sleep, but she knew that she couldn't risk staying any longer. Carefully, she replaced the journal in the drawer and shut it.

Well, she knew one thing-the stele wasn't in the drawer. She glanced towards Ash. She wasn't particularly eager to be trying to be rummaging around in his pants but if it had to be done…

Luckily, she was spared from that by an idea that just struck her.

It came in the form of Simon. Simon was an avid comic book reader. He had tried imparting some of that knowledge on Adele and it had partially worked; she could name the entire cast of Star Wars as well as the character they played. However, she had never really been a big fan. She remembered that when Simon was reading late at night, he would sometimes fall asleep while reading. When Isabelle or Adele came to wake him up the next morning from where he was crashed on the couch, his comic books would almost always have some sort of bookmark in them. Not a folded page or anything like that; in Simon's eyes, that was simple blasphemy, a crime punishable by death (which was easy for him to say; he was a vampire). Usually his glasses. Sometimes a stray scrap of paper.

Looking at Ash, she had a feeling he might get along with Simon if the two had ever met. It was safe to assume they might have the same common habits. What book had he been reading? The Flowers of Evil. She crossed round to the other side of the bed. There. On the floor, the book had been placed with care.

Crouching, she picked it up. There was something heavy in the book; she flipped the book open and sure enough, the stele was there.

She pulled it out. A dizzying sense of triumph filled her. She had found it. The stele. Adele set the book back down on the floor. Ash still hadn't moved and her earlier suspicions were confirmed; he was, in fact, drooling. However, her concerns right now did not involve whether or not her brother was drooling in his sleep. She was far more concerned about getting out of the house.

She set the stele to the skin of her forearm…

And nearly had a heart attack when a soft voice from behind her said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Adeline,"

Whirling around, she spun to find a figure sitting on the dresser at the far end of the room. Even from here, she could see the pale, almost white blonde hair that covered the figure's head and the dark, almost predatory eyes that seemed to watch her every move with little besides amusement, as if she were some small child that had not yet been explained the basic concepts of the universe.

"Jonathan," she said. Her pulse was hammering in her throat but she gripped the stele tighter. "Don't come any closer."

"Oh, you don't trust your own father, Adeline?"

"No one would, especially when their father kidnaps his own daughter just so they could have some daddy-daughter time," she retorted sharply. Her hand was shaking but she steadied herself, once more setting the stele to the pale skin of her forearm. She knew the rune she wanted to draw, she could picture it in her mind clearly but something was holding her back. She was hesitating and it annoyed her.

"Adeline…" Jonathan's voice held a distinct trace of warning. She raised her eyes, meeting his eyes defiantly.

"My name's not Adeline, it's Adele. And if you had a _shred_ of decency-"

"Don't talk to me about decency, when the man you've been living with for sixteen years doesn't have the decency to not steal other people's daughters."

"Steal?" Adele swallowed. "He didn't steal me, he saved me from-"

"From what?" Jonathan jumped of the dresser. He made no noise as he came closer to her, moving the way a panther did-lithe and graceful. Ready to pounce. Adele backed away.

"From what, Adeline?" Jonathan's voice had turned into a smooth purr but beneath it, there was something hard and dangerous. "What did he want to so _desperately_ protect you from?"

Adele swallowed. She knew what he expected to hear and what she was going to say.

"Stay away from me," she said instead, "I don't know you, I've never seen you before in my life."

Jonathan didn't reply. He had stopped walking, choosing to stare at her with an amused expression on his face.

"Adeline-"

"I'll use this on you!" She waved the stele wildly. When he didn't react, she moved it down to her skin, starting to trace an invisibility rune.

"That's a really bad idea, actually,"

Stiffening, she turned around. It was Ash. He was holding a seraph, pointed at her chest, level with her heart. His green eyes were narrowed and trained on her and he was still dressed in his nightwear clothes-a grey shirt and black boxers. Bearing an eerie resemblance to Jonathan, save for the green eyes, his expression wasn't as cruel.

"Ash," she said.

"Little sister," he tilted his head, smiling in a way so Adele knew he wasn't actually smiling. "What are you doing up so late? Shouldn't you be in bed? It is past your bedtime, after all,"

"You asshole," she hissed. She didn't know what else to say; her plan had been going well until Jonathan had caught her. She still had no clue how he had managed to creep up on her. Had he been in the room the entire time, watching her silently? And if he had, how had she failed to notice him?

Ash's mouth twitched like he wanted to smile but he didn't. He moved closer, pressing the blade against the fabric of her nightgown.

"Drop the stele and we can put this all behind us,"

"I don't think so," she replied. She threw the stele at us head and surprised, he ducked. This allowed her time to move out of the way of the blade, side stepping and as she did so, launching herself at him, knocking him to the ground.

She had the element of surprise and so she tried to put it to good use. Wrapping a hand around his neck, she tried placing him in a chokehold. He was much stronger then her and faster too; she felt him slip out of the hold and suddenly she was being pinned to the ground with her wrists next to her head. Ash was hovered over her hips, a smug expression gracing his pretty features.

"Is that the best you can do?"

Adele lashed out with her feet, enraged but he evaded easily. She tried headbutting him but he simply laughed, moving his own head out of the way.

"That's enough!" Jonathan stepped in. "Ash, get of her,"

Ash moved of her. Now both he and Jonathan were standing over her, looking at her similar expressions of arrogance.

 _Real family resemblance here,_ she thought sarcastically. _We should get pictures taken._

"Adeline, it's an extremely unwise decision for you to try and escape," Jonathan said. He looked vaguely disappointed, as if Adele had failed him in some way.

"I told you, my name's Adeline." She launched herself at Jonathan but didn't catch anything. Where he had once been standing was now empty space. She turned around, and he was standing there, on the far side of the room, looking extremely amused.

"You'll have to be faster than that," Jonathan clucked his tongue, "tell me, who taught you to fight? Jace?"

"It's none of your business," she spat, getting up.

"If I had taught you to fight you'd be as good as Ash," he looked thoughtful, "you have even become better then me. The possibility is there."

The arrogance level here was marvelous. If there had been an arrogant-o-mometer in here, it would have exploded due to the high levels of arrogance it was detecting here.

Adele launched herself at Ash this time. She managed to bring him down to the ground, giving him a good kick in the thighs. He let out a grunt of pain and grabbed her wrists, twisting. She felt something snap and screamed, hitting him in the face, managing to give him a bloody nose. He retaliated by a sharp blow to her head which knocked her of him. The world was suddenly spinning. She wanted to puke but when she leaned over, nothing came out except dry heaving.

Someone's hands roughly grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to stand up. The world tilted of it's axis and her knees buckled as she crumpled to the ground and she lost all train of thought.

At least she had tried.

~:~

 **A/N: Yeah, so the book reference thing with Simon refers to the habit most book lovers have of using pretty much everything and anything they have on hand to hold their spot. Personally, I've used anything from tissues to gum wrappers to receipts. Adele basically used the logic that Ash was being lazy and had decided to grab the first convenient thing he could use, his stele. Clever or not? ;)**

 **Anyways, thanks for the continued support guys! Please remember to review and tell me what you think. If you could favorite this story that would be great too!**

 **Happy Writing!**

 **-Amber :)**


	11. Chapter 11

When she woke up again in her own bed and in her own room, it was morning again. The curtains to her room were thrown up and someone had taken the time to tuck her into her blankets. She glanced down; the gown from last night was the same. When she lifted up the hem, she could see the fading traces of an iratze rune. No wonder she felt like she had just downed three coffees and five energy drinks.

"How do you feel?" The voice came from her right. She slammed a fist out in the direction, hoping to come in contact with a little bit of shoulder or maybe even a clip on the face, but the air is empty. There was laughter but this time the voice came from her other side.

"You'll have to be faster then that if you want to punch me,"

"Who said I was trying to punch you?" She asked, looking disgruntled. It was Ash, staring amusedly at her with a cocky grin on her face. Her eyes widened as she saw the black wings sprouting from his back. Tinged with silver, they resembled knives-lethal and deadly.

"What?" He asked, flapping them lightly. A gust of air blew forward into her direction. He was doing it on purpose. She narrowed her eyes.

"You have wings,"

"Stating the obvious?"

"You didn't have them yesterday."

"I know that."

Adele crossed her arms. "Do you want to explain," she said, "why you suddenly have wings today and not yesterday?"

"I always had them," he replied. "I'm just very good at...hiding them."

Adele stared at them. They were huge wings and they resembled angel wings except for their black color. She noticed the way they flared up from his shoulder blades, curving sharply at the joint and dipping down at wide angles. The top feathers were silver in color but the rest were in varying shades of dark black, blacker, and blacker. Looking slightly amused, Ash watched her reaction.

"What are you?" She finally asked. "Angel? Demon?"

"It's complicated. And I'm not sure even I know what I am either."

"Wonderful," she said.

Ash looked at her closely. "Do you even know who you are?"

"Of course," she scoffed, "I'm Shadowhunter. Just like you."

Ash opened his mouth but shut it again as the door to her bedroom opened again. It was Jonathan, with a breakfast tray. He was wearing a simple red shirt and black track pants. She noted his hair was wet as if he had just taken a shower. As he got closer, she managed to inhale his scent, a mixture of cardamom and some other spice.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully, setting the tray down on the bedside table next to her. There was some toast, a bowl of cereal and a sesame seed bagel with cream cheese on the plate. She picked up the toast, biting into it cautiously before she could start to think that he might have poisoned it. After a few moments of chewing, she determined it was safe to eat the rest of it.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine," Adele said, finding it ironic he was asking her how she felt after he had just knocked her out. "Listen, about last night-"

"Let's not talk about that right now," he quickly interrupted. "Have your breakfast; I want to give you a tour of the house."

"Oh. Ash already did that but thanks-"

"I'm sure he didn't teach you the history behind it, did he?" Jonathan smiled. He was handsome, although not in the way Jace was. Jace's skin was tanned while Jonathan's was as pale as hers. But it made sense, of course; he was her father. His dark eyes were welcoming, inviting, even and at such close quarters, she was starting to get a little light-headed. She could see why her mother had fallen for his good looks. It would be simple to make a mistake like that, thinking such a pretty and charming creature could cause so much destruction and mayhem.

"We didn't have a lot of time for a history lecture," Ash muttered next to her. Jonathan ignored him.

"Sure," Adele said, shrugging. It couldn't hurt and it might even prove to be an advantage. Knowing the layout of the house could help her escape. She took a bite of the bagel, letting the cream cheese melt in her mouth.

Jonathan nodded, finally letting his attention return to Ash. Was it her imagination or did Ash just sink a little underneath his gaze?

"Ash," he said, "your mother wants to speak to you. I trust you can find your way to the Court?"

"Yes."

"Be back by nine tonight." Jonathan turned back to Adele, smiling. The smile didn't reach his eyes and she noticed something odd about it-all teeth and predatory. She must have been imagining it. Sipping her orange juice, she felt a little ashamed that she would accuse her father of things like this. He was her father. He only wanted the best for her. When she blinked, he was smiling at her normally. She smiled back. Ash gave her a funny look.

Adele finished her breakfast as Ash left the room. Jonathan left too, but he told here to be ready by nine. Glancing at the clock, she noted she only had about forty five minutes to be showered and dressed.

She pulled some cloths out of the dresser, setting them on the bed. The clothes were in her style, which she was surprised to see. How long had they been watching her for? Once more, the same unsettling feeling of doubt came back to her, but when she tried to venture on it any harder, her head started hurting. She touched her forehead, gingerly. Ash must have given her a concussion. Asshole.

In the shower, she lathered up with the same bubble gum body wash from yesterday. Ash was right; now that she thought about it, she really did smell like bubblegum. She shampooed and conditioned, then dried of her hair and walked back out to her bedroom. Slipping into her clothes, she found a comb in one of the drawers to the dresser. As she worked on untangling the knots from her hair, she considered a plan of action.

"Ouch," she muttered as she worked her way through a large knot. If Isabelle had been here, she would have gotten the knot out in under five minutes but since Adele was in charge of her own hair for once, the knot took a little over ten minutes to work out. By the time she had managed to comb it out, the digital clock read nine. She left her hair loose and opened the door to her room, only to see Jonathan walking towards the door.

"Oh," he smiled, "you're ready."

She saw him give her body a once over. With any other boy she might have felt uncomfortable; even Simon and Jace didn't do that to her. But this was her father. He was probably just making sure the clothes he had brought her fit.

"Thanks for all the clothes," she said, "I really appreciate it."

"No problem. They look nice on you. Come on; we'll start at the kitchen."

She followed him down the hallway and a flight of stairs. The carpets in the house were so thick and plush she hadn't bothered to put on slippers or socks. The chandeliers had at some point, all been blown out. Ash had said there were servants in the house but so far there was no evidence or proof of this. There were some paintings on the wall and some portraits. She paused as they passed by a large portrait of a redhead woman. The woman was pretty, with angular features and bright green eyes. Her dark red hair was put up on her head in a curled crown and a few tendrils hung in her eyes. If Adele had attempted that, she would have looked homeless; the woman, however, made it look flawless.

She pointed. "Who's that?"

Jonathan paused, following the line of her finger. "My mother," he murmured, "so your grandmother."

"She's pretty. What's her name?"

"Jocelyn. Have you ever met her, Adeline?"

Adele shook her head. Although it still slightly irked her that he called her by the name _Adeline,_ she wasn't as annoyed as she used to be. Jonathan looked thoughtful.

"I never met her either," he said it like it was some sort of confession. "She didn't like me very much. And I don't think she likes you very much either."

Adele was surprised and hurt. "Why? She's my grandmother. She can't hate me."

He chuckled, like she had something that had amused him. "She doesn't like….things that aren't normal. People like us," he pointed to himself, "freaks."

It had been similar to what Ash had said before. Before she could ask him anymore, he had moved on and she was forced to follow along.

They passed a few more portraits. Jonathan didn't look like he wanted to entertain any more questions, so she kept quiet. They passed a portrait of a large man with unsmiling eyes and the same pale blond hair as Jonathan. Even his features resembled Jonathan's, although Jonathan's were much finer. It might have made him look delicate and dainty boned, but it didn't. The man must have been related to him in some way. Another portrait showed another red haired woman, posing with a man Adele recognized as her father. Jonathan wasn't smiling and neither was the woman, although the woman's unhappiness actually looked real while Jonathan seemed to be merely doing to it to humour the painter. The woman resembled Jocelyn but the nose was wrong; while this woman's nose curved up, Jocelyn's didn't. The hair was also several shades brighter and freckles dotted the woman's face and neck. Jonathan had an arm on her forearm and another on her waist. Adele paused, momentarily fascinated. The woman's dull green eyes seemed to call out to her, drawing her in.

 _Warning her._

"Ah, I remember that,"

Adele turned to see Jonathan standing behind her. He was smiling as he stared at the portrait.

"The woman, who is she?"

"My sister," he said.

"I didn't know you had a sister,"

"Of course; Jace mustn't have told you. She's your aunt. Clarissa."

"Clar-risa," she tested the name out on her tongue. "Is she still alive?"

Jonathan shook his head. "She died," he said shortly, "in a fire."

Adele stared a moment longer before following Jonathan down the hallway.

The kitchen looked even better in daylight. The surfaces were polished and gleaming. Now that she could see it, she realized the house also had a bar style counter. As they entered, there was a woman, sweeping the floor. The woman froze seeing them.

"Master Jonathan," she said. Her eyes were a strange blue, pretty like a swirled marble. They gazed in fear between the two of them.

"Kaesy, meet my daughter, Adele,"

Adele waved a hello to Kaesy. She was short and pretty, with flowing black hair that would have given Isabelle a run for her own impeccable dark locks, and a soft, tentative smile, which she now flashed to Adele.

"Adele, this is Kaesy. She cleans the house. If you ever need anything, ask her,"

Adele blushed. She had a feeling she knew what Jonathan was referring to.

"Thanks," she mumbled, looking at her feet.

Jonathan said something to Kaesy but she wasn't paying attention. Instead, she took a good look around the kitchen, noting the windows. It didn't mean she was going to fling herself out the window the first chance she saw (she had no idea how high of the ground they were and she didn't have any intentions of breaking her legs). There were two large windows but they were locked. She checked the otherside. There was a door leading to somewhere but she had no clue where.

"Searching for exits?" It was Jonathan's voice, behind her. She jumped.

"Of course not. I'm just, I'm just…" She couldn't find a suitable excuse. Turning back to him, she noticed his eyebrows were raised at her as if he knew she was lying. Kaesy had disappeared, leaving nothing but a polished kitchen in her wake.

"I wouldn't try anything; there's only one way out of the house and it's not out the door,"

She let out a huff of annoyance but said nothing more. Jonathan gestured at the cupboards.

"That's where the plates are kept. You can find the forks in that drawer," he pointed, "and if your hungry, just ask Ash. He'll be with you most of the time."

"I didn't see a portrait of Ash up there."

Jonathan paused, turning to look at her from where he was near the fridge. "Ash has one but I don't know where he's put it."

Adele raised an eyebrow in a fashion that would have made him jealous.

"Do you want to see the living room?"

She nodded and they moved out of the kitchen. The whole time, she was painfully aware of how close he was to her. He smelled like spices but in a good way; fresh, and clean, not like the old and rarely used spice cupboard that occupied the kitchen where Isabelle cooked.

She blinked. What was wrong with her? He was her father. Shaking the traitorous thoughts from her head, she tried to pay attention to what Jonathan was saying.

"...and if you want to watch the television, just use the remote. I don't think you'll need to ever use the internet."

She nodded. The internet! Why hadn't she thought of that? She wanted to smack herself. Of course she could always use the internet.

"The internet?" She questioned innocently. "I didn't know there was internet in the house."

Jonathan looked at her for a moment before his lips twisted into a wry smile. "Very clever," he leaned closer to her, so close she could smell his breath. Mm. Cinnamon. "But you'll have to be smarter than that."

She blinked and he backed away, taking the scent of cinnamon with him. She followed him to the hallway once more. The tour had lasted an hour and yet, they had barely seen the house at all.

~:~

"Ash Morgenstern," Meliorn gazed at him with cool contempt. "What a surprise."

"My mother called for me, Meliorn. But I can always go and you can always risk the wrath of Her Majesty," Ash shrugged a shoulder, turning away, but Meliorn called him back.

"State your name and business."

He raised an eyebrow. "Ash Morgenstern, son of the Seelie Queen. She has requested an audience with me."

Meliorn nodded once. "Come with me," and Ash was forced to follow him.

He had worn his standard black armor, making no move to hide his wings. Folding them behind his back, he had placed the small band of gold that was reserved for royalty, on his head. He had made an effort to brush his hair mainly because he knew his mother would disapprove at the state he was keeping his hair (it was clean, but he found no use in wasting too much time brushing or styling it if it was going to get messed up anyhow).

They moved through the long Earthen hallways, past the creeper vines. A group of nixies passed by, their sharp white teeth gleaming as they regarded the flesh of Ash's forearm appreciatively. He shook his head, no, at them and they moved away, disappointed. Nixies. Then again, there was Meliorn to deal with.

Passing through the court, Ash ignored the groups of faeries dancing in circles. He knew that Shadowhunters who came by had been driven insane by the dancing. He was Shadowhunter but he was also faerie, making him immune to the charm. Looking closer, he saw the flesh dripping of the dancer's body, stripping them to their bones. Disgusted, he turned away.

"Your Majesty," Meliorn bowed. The Court was a public place and Ash knew everything he said to Her Majesty would soon be relayed throughout the Faerie Land as gossip. The faeries already knew who he was-the son of the Seelie Queen and Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, one of the best and most notorious Shadowhunters of his time did that to you.

"Your Majesty," he bowed.

The Seelie Queen looked at him with her bright blue eyes. He had not inherited her eyes or her hair. They did not look related. He did not look anything like her.

"Prince Ash," she said, raising a thin eyebrow, "marvelous to see you again. I take it all is well with your father?"

"Of course," he said although this was a lie. The bandages on his back proved so. Complaining to his mother would do little to help him; she had fallen underneath Jonathan's charm and good looks. Even if she saw Jonathan openly doing the things to Ash that he did sometimes, saw the bandages on his back and arms and legs and torso, she would simply dismiss him. "How is everything?"

The Seelie Queen smiled. That's when he knew he was in trouble.

"There's been word," she started carefully, "that there's a _girl_ in your house."

He shrugged. "So? We have girl servants, girl cooks, girl-"

"A Shadowhunter girl. The child of Clary Fairchild."

Ash stilled, trying not to betray himself too much. Jonathan had given him strict instructions not to share the information with anyone and this included his own mother.

"Shadowhunter? Girl? Who's Clary Fairchild?"

The Seelie Queen regarded him closely for a moment. "I see," she said at last, "very well. I will speak to Jonathan directly."

He nodded. Jonathan wouldn't give up the information either.

The Seelie Queen gestured at the cushions at her feet. "Sit."

He had no choice but to obey. Faeries brought him food but he was very cautious about the things he ate here. Ignoring the multiple faeries shoving goblets of bright blue liquid in his face, he knew that he was going to be subject to a full interrogation. What was going on? What's Jonathan doing now?

He almost snorted. As if he was going to give up the information easily. Most people were scared of his mother. He himself harbored a healthy distrust of her. But he was more scared of Jonathan. If people thought his mother was bad, his father was even worse.

Two monsters, he mused, in love. But could monsters even fall in love? The Seelie Queen was watching him, as if trying to read his reaction. Looking up at her, he didn't think so.

~:~

 **A/N: The story's finally getting exciting!**

 **Special thanks to all the people who followed my story (the previous chapter cut out some of the names):**

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 **Happy Writing and goodnight!**

 **-Amber**


	12. Chapter 12

Jace had once liked clubs but that was back when getting out of bed every morning didn't require reasons. No voice to remind him, "Hey, Adele's alive, your her caretaker, wake _up."_

He knew he was depressed. Maybe he had anxiety. Or PTSD. Isabelle told him he should get it checked out. He ignored her. Simon told him, although in more subtle ways, like, "You're going crazy in old age, man," or, "It's not the War anymore." Alec probably felt it. Their parabatai bond ensured this. He ignored all possible signs. His primary responsibility was Clave duties and taking care of Adele. Nothing else mattered.

Club La Amour was loud and noisy and in the middle of the night, the party had just begun. He pushed his way past people to the bar area.

"You want something to drink, man?" The bartender shouted to make himself be heard over the loud music. He had studded earrings and a silver lip ring. Bright blue hair in a mohawk style, falling floppily in one direction. His name tag read Derek.

"No," he shouted back, leaning in closer, "I'm looking for someone."

The bartender hesitated, his eyes flitting down to the open collar of Jace's shirt, eyes widening as they saw the Runes that marked his skin.

"Listen," said Derek, "I don't want any trouble. I just work here for money. We have strict instructions-"

Jace pulled the seraph blade from his belt, laying it down in the space between them. The blade caught the light, gleaming.

"Say that again," he commanded, his voice low. "I need information, and if you don't provide it to me, let's just say that this should be the least of your worries…"

Derek swallowed, looking nervous. "Alright, I suppose I can make an exception this one time. Just put that thing away, please, before someone sees it."

Jace put the seraph away and Derek gestured for him to come around to the other side of the bar. A girl in a floppy mini skirt and tank top rubbed up against his arm but he pushed her away impatiently. Following Derek, they ended up in a small back room filled with cardboard boxes. The room was cold and smelled musty, but they were ensured of privacy here. No one else was here.

"Who are you looking for?"

" A young Shadowhunter. She's blonde. Green eyes. Tall."

"How old?"  
"Sixteen."

Derek looked up suspiciously. "We don't allow minors in here," he said.

"She might have had a fake ID," Jace lied smoothly, "maybe she was with someone? Don't you have security cameras?"

Derek shook his head slowly. Jace cursed his luck but it made sense; Adele's kidnappers had already proved to be smart. They wouldn't take her somewhere they knew would be watched. He knew the Clave's own activity was limited here; they didn't have dealings or informants in clubs like this.

"Okay," Jace nodded, "was there security?"

Derek nodded. "We have guards at the door. They might have seen something but I'm not sure-"

The doors to the backroom opened and a woman entered. Her nails were long and painted a bright crimson red, giving the illusion that she was dripping blood. Her hair was shiny black, streaked with the occasional grey.

"Derek," she smiled. Her teeth were sharp and pointy, like a small, rabid animal. "Good work,"

Derek turned pale at the same time Jace drew the seraph from his belt.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"Jace Wayland," the woman purred, moving closer. She seemed to shimmer as she came closer, like a bad mirage image. Maybe she was a mirage. Was she even real? He felt kind of light headed and dizzy. Had he been drugged? Was it the air? "I've heard so much about you."

"Who are you?" He repeated. His arm felt weird now, heavy and funny. Tingling. The woman was coming closer but she was starting to get hazy around the edges. He couldn't see Derek anymore. He tried slashing the blade at the woman but there was nothing there but empty air.

"That's irrelevant," the woman's voice was suddenly next to his ear. Her breath was warm, like humidity on a warm summer day. He recoiled away, clutching the seraph tighter.

"Now, don't struggle or try to fight it," she was saying, "Derek, grab his seraph."

The seraph was yanked from his fingers and he was powerless to stop it. The world was spinning around him and his mind was being pulled underneath a heavy curtain of sleep. When he blinked, he was looking up at the ceiling. Something tight was cinched around his wrists. He tried to move his head to look at it but he couldn't. Derek's blue hair was at the edge of his field of vision. With the last of his strength, he lashed out, grabbing it and smashing his head onto the floor. There was a cry of pain and then no more.

~:~

Prista Queenie had once gone out with Jace Wayland. A long, long, time ago. They had broken up because, according to him, it had never "been anything serious." Prista had agreed and, bouncing from one unhealthy relationship to the next, always thinking she wasn't good enough. Or maybe the fact that she was a Downworlder, not good enough for him. The child of a warlock and a vampire. He must have hated her for blamed him. She blamed him for making her fall in love with him. She was still in love with him. And she hated herself, every single day, for that. His smile, the way he laughed and even the lazy look in his eyes as he watched her lie in bed after they had made out. He hadn't done much better then her. Last she had heard was he had gotten with some redhead. They had been happy. Of course, there had also been her. She was to blame. He had been sixteen, she was seventeen. There was little chance of it turning into anything serious.

Club La Amour was one of the few she frequented a few times a week. It was easy to earn some extra money; the men here were ugly, and desperate for any sort of female attention. She never stayed long (she took that page out of Jace's book) and she never allowed herself to be taken home by anyone. Earning a bit of extra cash never hurt anyone and the drinks here were pretty good, too.

"Thanks," she said, smiling a sugary sweet smile at a vampire. He was over a hundred years old but he looked like he was younger then her. She didn't know whether to be disgusted or not but at least he paid well. She walked off, clutching the hundred he had given her.

"One scotch, no ice," she said to the bartender.

"Make it free. Drinks on me."

Warily, she turned around. It was a woman, which surprised her; usually it was men who would try to buy her drinks underneath the pretense of "getting to know her."

"I don't swing that way," she said, "but if you have cash, I'll gladly-"

"I'm not here for your services." The woman looked amused. She was pretty in a sharp sort of way, Prista guessed, but not someone who she would want to encounter in a dark alleyway. "I want you to do something for me."

The bartender came back with Prista's scotch and another drink. The woman accepted it, although Prista never remembered her ordering it. The drink was dark green and foamy. The woman took a sip, grinning.

"What kind of thing?" Prista narrowed her eyes. This wasn't the first time she had gotten an offer like this. Mostly it was stuff like smuggling weed in her bra, or stashing a wad of cash down her panties to evade the security that ran the place.

"I need you to drug someone for me,"

Prista's eyes widened as she choked a little on her scotch. "Drug someone?" She asked, looking at the woman in disbelief. She must be joking. There was no way she could do something like that. Even if the money was good, she wasn't the type of person to do something like this.

"Yes," the woman took another sip of her drink.

"I can't do that. I'm sorry. If you want I'll pay for my drink but-"

"You haven't even heard my offer yet,"

"I don't want to. I can't. I'm sorry-"

"If you could get revenge on Jace Wayland, would you?"

Prista paused from where she was getting up. "Jace?"

The woman smiled, looking triumphant. "Knew that would get your attention," she swirled the straw in her drink, looking thoughtful, "but if you really don't want to-"

"No, no, I'll listen." She sat down again. Prista couldn't say that this didn't interest her. She had imagined getting revenge on him a hundred times. Maybe closer to a thousand. Of course, she didn't want to seriously hurt him. If there was one thing that hadn't changed over the years, it was her cursedly soft nature.

"You're a very pretty girl, aren't you? He's in the club right now. I need you to get close to him, find him, and either slip this into his drink," the woman pulled a vial out of her pocket, showing it to Prista, "or inject him with this." This time it was a syringe, the top gleaming sharply in the club's lighting.

"What will it do?"

"It won't kill him." The woman dismissed the concern easily. Prista found it odd that she would say something like that but she shook the concern out of her mind quickly. "Simply...put him to sleep for a while. For the injection, just stab him somewhere. He won't feel it at all."

"What's in it for me?"

The woman finished her drink. "Money," she replied simply. "A lot of it."

"How much?"

"Ten thousand."

Prista raised her eyebrows, but there was a nagging doubt in the back of her mind even as she accepted both the things from the woman.

"Is he in trouble?"

"What?" The woman froze from where she was getting up. She hadn't finished the drink, noted Prista. Some of the green stuff was still left in the glass.

"Jace. Is he in trouble?"

The woman laughed. It wasn't an amused laugh, sounding forced. "Just do what you're told and I'll get the money to you."

Then she was gone.

Prista stared at the items in her hand. There were several questions in her mind. First, what had Jace done this time? She knew he was working for the Clave, but there hadn't been much exciting news in the past few months. And although he had an impress track record, she doubted he would do anything _too_ bad or _too_ drastic. Secondly, where was he? And last, how was she going to inject him without him knowing it? She knew he had fast reflexes. She had experienced them for herself. He was also observant. He could sense when something was off.

This was going to be harder then she thought. But the allure of ten thousand dollars in her bank account was greater than her fear of getting caught.

She moved off to find him.

Five minutes later, she finally spotted him. He was leaning against the bar, talking to the bartender. Even years later, even now, her heart seemed to do that ridiculous little leap whenever she saw him, like it had decided to fling itself down the nearest chasm and commit suicide. He wasn't ordering a drink, she noted, so the vial wasn't going to work.

Prista pulled out the syringe, moving towards him. She hesitated ten feet within him, pretending to mingle with a throng of werewolves. He still hadn't seen her yet.

The bartender gestured at him and Jace nodded, moving towards where she was standing. Now was her chance. Should she say something? But he wasn't even looking at her. She moved closer to him, brushing up against his shoulder and at the same time, stabbing the syringe. The woman hadn't specified where to stab him and she was no expert; she stabbed the first place she could find and that just so happen to be the top of his thigh. Looking annoyed, he brushed her off quickly, disappearing through the crowd until she couldn't see him anymore.

Prista considered going after him. She left the syringe drop to the floor. He was the same, handsome as ever, curly blonde hair falling in his eyes, slightly longish the way he liked it. And yet, he had proved to be disappointing again. He hadn't even recognized her. She blinked some of the tears out of her eyes, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. She really had never mattered to him. She had been nothing to him. Nothing but trash. Something he could use once and toss away again.

It was in that moment that she knew she hated Jace Wayland.

~:~

 **A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the support. I'd like to give shoutouts to the people who followed and favorited.**

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	13. Chapter 13

Jonathan seemed to be in a good when Ash came back so he could safely assume Adeline hadn't done anything stupid and provoked his wrath. Since he had missed dinner, he waited until Jonathan had gone to his room to work before heading to the refrigerator to grab something.

He had managed to snag a container of leftover rice and chicken before he heard someone's footsteps behind him.

"I wouldn't try anything," he said, quiet calmly. "There's a knife within my reach and I won't be afraid to use it."

He turned around, still holding the leftovers. It was Adele. She was looking at him in a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. So he had been partially right. She had been trying to do something. He walked over to the microwave, placing the container inside. He pressed a few buttons and crossed his arms.

"I take it your tour with Jonathan went well?"

She scoffed. "He was much more helpful than you were," and there was dull resentment in her voice.

"Well, sorry. I don't teach history."

The microwave beeped and he pulled out the food. Grabbing a spoon, he turned to her, nearly whacking her in the face with his wings. She ducked at the last moment.

"Are you going to keep following me or go to bed?"

"Neither. Perhaps I'll read."

"Don't touch my books," he said, walking to the living room. He flipped on the television, trying his best to ignore the slim figure standing in the doorway, looking at him in a way that made him want to avert her eyes.

"Are you just going to keep ignoring me forever?"

"That was the plan," he took a bite of his food, eyes trained on the screen. Some news anchor was playing; someone had drowned in the river and he watched with a detached sort of interest. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her throw up her hands in frustration and disappear.

It only occurred to him later that maybe he was supposed to be keeping an eye on her and Jonathan was going to be absolutely pissed if something like yesterday happen again.

"Hey," he called out, trying to keep his voice uninterested and unassuming. "You want some ice cream?"

There was no answer.

"Last offer. There's mango and coconut pineapple in the freezer-oh forget it. Where are you?" He finally snapped. She was going to be the death of him, he just knew it. Annoying and irritating. He couldn't believe that he wanted a sibling when he was younger. If there was half as annoying as Adeline was on a regular basis, he would probably put them up for adoption. "I'm not playing around, Adeline, can you not right now?"

He moved towards the kitchen. Maybe she had taken him up on his offer and was on the floor, digging out mango ice cream with a spoon and shoveling it into her mouth. She wasn't there. Had she gone back to her room? Maybe she was asleep.

"Ash!" A voice called from upstairs. He froze. It was Jonathan. Shit, shit, shit. If he came down here and discovered the nasty surprise, he was going to kill him. "Where's Adeline?"

"She's asleep."

There was a pause and then no reply. Ash waited a few more moments but there was no additional noise. No sound to suggest Jonathan had taken up the whip. He moved back towards the living room, grabbing his stele.

Lifting up the sleeve of his shirt, he traced a tracking rune on to the skin. "Adeline," he said. He closed his eyes and concentrated. A moment later, an image, hazy and blurry, took place in his mind. He recognized the room. It was the attic and it wasn't used much. Ash used to go up there when he was younger, mainly to hide from Jonathan, but it had been a long time since he had dared venture up there again. Opening his eyes, he walked up the stairs. The attic was the top most floor. The housekeeper had clearly neglected to sweep here because there was a thick layer of dust on the floorboards and wall. He coughed as he accidentally flapped one of his wings, upsetting dust that got into his eyes. Had the carpet always been stripped away? He couldn't remember. Gripping the stele in his hand, he pushed the door open.

The lights were turned off. The night vision runes helped him see and he could make out some boxes on the floor. Something flashed past his vision and he managed to turn around as something slammed into him.

He lashed out, managing to land a punch on his attacker's shoulders before they had rolled away. He sat up, touching a hand to his face. Even in the dark, he could smell the blood on his fingers.

Ash stumbled to his feet, scanning the room. He heard a movement behind him and turned, raising his hands in time to block a blow from his attacker. The attacker tried to knee him but he grabbed their knee with one hand, twisting to the side. Hissing in pain, he managed to push them back and to the floor.

"Let go of me," the person said in his ear, angrily. It was Adeline. Of course it was. Why was he surprised?

"Why exactly are you trying to kill me? Do you really hate me that much?" Blood was trickling down his face and his nose felt funny. It wasn't broken; he'd broken his nose before and it didn't feel like this. There was, however, blood coming out of his nose and this was something of mild concern that should probably worry me.

"I'm not trying to kill you. Just knock you out long enough for me to escape." She pushed against his chest, trying to escape. "And don't flatter yourself; you're not as annoying as you claim to be."

"And you're even more annoying than you pretend to be," he muttered, finally getting off her. "Try anything funny and I won't hesitate to snap your neck."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Watch me."

"I'd like to see you try."

Ash grabbed her arm roughly. "Come on. Before Jonathan catches us."

He pushed her out into the hallway. It was only in the light that he saw that she was itching her arms.

"By the Angel," he said, "did you just break out in hives?"

"Yes." She glared at him, itching even harder. He resisted the temptation to grab her hands and pull them at her sides; she was only making it worse.

"Jonathan is going to kill me."

"Aww," her voice came out as a sickeningly sweet simper. "Is someone afraid?"

"You would be too. Don't test him. Start walking."

"I was being serious. Are you afraid of him?"

"No," he said. This was a lie. "Are you always this irritating?"

"Well, you know what they say. Someone as perfect as me doesn't exist in real life. I needed some bad traits or people would start to think I'm not a real person."

He snorted, despite himself. Adeline could be funny when she wanted to. They walked downstairs; he caught a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror and winced. Blood was gushing out of his nose,staining the front of his chin and shirt red. Adeline looked fine, escaping with no injuries except for her mussed up hair and the hives on her arms. Ash wondered how she could possibly maintain her hair. It was long, almost falling to her waist. He couldn't even keep his hair, short and and curling around to the nape of his neck, tangled and messed up for more than a few hours.

"How old are you?"

He gave her a sideways glance, wondering where she was going with this. "Twenty one," he said. "Aren't you sixteen?"

"Yeah," now she looked a little suspicious. "How do you know so much about me?"

"It's not exactly private information, is it?" He said, swiftly diverting the topic. "If Jonathan asks, say I tripped and had an accident."

Adeline gave him a doubtful look. "Won't an iratze fix your nose?" She pointed. "Oh, but the blood…"

"I'll throw the shirt in the wash." He dismissed it. "Don't breathe a word, alright?"

"And what if I do?"

Ash opened his mouth to answer but before he could, he heard a door down the hallway open and then close again.

"Ash?" The voice belonged to Jonathan's. Footsteps were making their way towards them. The pair stiffened, and Adeline was shoving him in the other direction.

"Go," she hissed, "I'll lie to him."

"But-"

"I'm a good liar. Don't worry." The footsteps were getting closer. Ash had no time to give the thought further analysis as he sprinted the opposite direction, disappearing down the flight of stairs and back to the first floor. He pulled of his shirt, throwing it into the laundry bin of clothes that needed to be washed. Putting the stele to his abdomen, he traced a quick iratze, feeling the familiar burn and sting as his nose healed itself. Upstairs, he could hear the low murmur of voices. Jonathan was asking Adeline where he had gone. He didn't hear Adeline's excuse but the silence that followed it seemed to be enough. He wiped the remaining blood on his face, running up the stairs again.

"Ah, I was just _looking_ for you," he said as he walked towards them Jonathan's eyes narrowed minutely. If Adeline hadn't been there, he probably would have called him out on it. "Where have you been?"

"Why weren't you with Adeline?"

Ash scrambled for an excuse. He was very good at lying, a little too good for it not to be concerning but Jonathan was the one person who could see through his lies. Adeline stepped in.

"He went to get me a glass of water." She explained. He was actually impressed; she was convincing and Jonathan seemed to believe her.

"And why are you covered in hives?" Jonathan squinted at the rash on Adeline's arm at the same time Ash winced. The rash seemed to have gotten worse and all the itching she had done hadn't helped either. "Are you allergic to anything?"

"I'm allergic to dust. There was some in the closet. I asked for water because it usually makes me feel better."

Jonathan looked less suspicious at this. After all, the proof was right in front of him. "Where's the water?"

"You called me," Ash pointed out and a brief emotion flickered across Jonathan's face before his features smoothened out again.

"I see," he said. "I'm glad that the both of you are getting along so well. I hope you continue to do so. We wouldn't want any...accidents to happen, would we?"

"Of course not," her voice was as light as a cloud. "Ash and me are the best of friends, aren't we?"

"Yes. I wouldn't want anything to happen to my little sister, would I?" With Jonathan's back turned to her, he didn't see the way Adeline's innocent gaze turned into one of murder. Ash knew they were laying it on a bit thick but Jonathan probably had no clue of the devilry is daughter was capable off. The momentary consensus they had reached together was quickly gone as Jonathan jerked his head at Ash.

"Get her back to her room and do something about that rash. And Ash, put on a shirt." Jonathan gazed pointedly at him and he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. His scars must have been showing, then. Sure enough, Adeline was gazing at them curiously. He turned so she couldn't. "Then come see me."

The words held ominous meanings. Concentrate on one thing at a time, he reminded himself. He bowed his head, moving past him. Adeline followed, and he could feel Jonathan's gaze on his back as it usually was-smoldering and with an intensity that made him feel like something light was brushing his back but when he turned, there was nothing there.

When they were out of earshot, she smacked him.

"What was that for?" He asked.

"Little sister?" She hissed. "You make me sound like I'm five!"

"Well, if you act like you're five, that's exactly what your going to get."

For a moment, he was sure that she was going to inflict more bodily harm on him. When she didn't, just walking next to him silence, he finally spoke again.

"Er...thanks for that."

"Thanks for what?"

Ash nearly groaned. "Don't make me say it."

Adeline rolled her eyes. "You're welcome. It's not like I wanted to get in trouble either."

He resisted from making another snarky they got to her room, she pushed the door open. Lingering, she glanced back at him.

"Do you need some lotion? I have calamine in my room…"

"It's fine," she waved a hand dismissively. "There's some in the bathroom." She started to shut the door again but hesitated.

"What happen to your back, by the way?"

"What?"

"Your back." She pointed at a scar that had stretched to his rib cage. He didn't remember that one but he did remember that he had the mistake of trying to move and the whip had managed to cut his ribs.

"It's...nothing," he said, ducking his head as his cheeks flushed. He picked at the hem of his pants. "Is that all?"

"Um, thanks for not getting me in trouble either." She was looking at him in an odd way but before he could figure out what exactly was so odd about the expression, she had mumbled a hasty good night and shut the door again.

He stood there for a minute before going back to the living room. The news anchor had switched to a weather report. He put the food away back in the fridge before pulling on a shirt and going back upstairs to Jonathan's room.

~:~

 _...Ithuriel is in the cellar…_

 _...weakened...a goblet of blood...Celine...food...Jocelyn...unhappy...created a monster…_

~:~

 **A/N: Sorry for the late update, guys! Anyways, my update schedule as of now is every Monday and Friday. So expect chapters on those days. :)**

 **Thanks to** **lindafontanez14 for following the story.**

 **Goodnight and happy writing!**

 **-Amber**


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